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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28400676">Numbering Days</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaron_The_8th_Demon/pseuds/Aaron_The_8th_Demon'>Aaron_The_8th_Demon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Capture-Then-Kill Fics [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(I'm not surprised that that's not a real tag), Additional Warnings in Chapter Notes, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Anxiety Disorder, Autistic Castiel (Supernatural), Depression, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Psychosis, Roommates in a mental hospital, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, This fic is fully written i'm just posting it on a schedule because reasons, Whump</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 16:08:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,661</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28400676</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaron_The_8th_Demon/pseuds/Aaron_The_8th_Demon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Believing you're an angel and attempting to fly from a bridge passing over the interstate, as it turns out, is an excellent way to get yourself detained in a psychiatric institution. Which would be fine if half the patients and doctors there aren't also demons, and also if one of your older brothers doesn't have agency over you and is now using this as a way to keep you locked up indefinitely.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Capture-Then-Kill Fics [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2231922</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>227</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>216</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I feel somewhat ambivalent about the actual posting of this fic, so... be gentle, please.</p><p>Disclaimers up front:</p><p>1. A lot of this fic takes place in a psychiatric hospital.<br/>2. While I have been admitted for behavioral health problems multiple times and draw on those experiences for this fic, this is an amalgamation of different facilities and if you have had similar experiences these may not necessarily match yours.<br/>3. I have autism and anxiety and several other things; however, I do not have psychosis, nor do I have PTSD (or at least I don't officially have that diagnosis). Research went into this and I did my best to be accurate to those disorders.<br/>4. While Dean does tend towards violence, this is a reflection of his character. The majority of people with PTSD and other psychiatric problems are not violent or dangerous in real life despite what most popular media would have you believe.<br/>5. This fic deals heavily with several different types of abuse from family members.<br/>6. There will be additional trigger warnings in the endnotes of chapters, assuming any are applicable. This helps prevent spoilers for readers who don't want them but you'll be able to zip to the bottom and check them if you're worried.</p><p>A significant chunk of this fic has already been written; however it is still in progress at the time that I'm posting the first chapter. Updates will take place once per week.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's important to note that for the purposes of this fic we're picturing Cas and Dean from about season 4, so much younger and scrawnier than recent canon. (Well, Dean's not really scrawny, but still lol)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Today is the fifty seventh day in this hospital.</p><p>Cas knows that because he draws a calendar each month, with help from a nurse’s cell phone. The nurses like him, usually. They’re nice to him even though he screams and panics sometimes. Of course… everyone screams and panics sometimes, here. But they like him. They like him because he doesn’t get angry with them, he doesn’t yell at them or try to kick them. He understands that it isn’t their fault he has to be here. And because they like him, they’ve managed to keep him by himself, not place a roommate.</p><p>Until now.</p><p>“Hey, Cas.”</p><p>“Hello.” He drinks his orange juice. He doesn’t look at her. He’s afraid to look at the nurses because he doesn’t want to accidentally find out that they’re demons. “I’ve been here fifty seven days.”</p><p>“Mm-hm. Remember when you first got here?”</p><p>“Yes. My roommate was on his last two nights and was discharged.”</p><p>“Okay. Well, you’re going to have a roommate again.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“I’m sorry, Cas, it’s the only open bed.”</p><p>“My space will be invaded.” Cas starts to breathe more heavily and his arms tingle and his stomach plunges into his guts. “It could be a demon.”</p><p>“No, no, it’s another patient,” she soothes, patting the back of his hand. “He’ll be here after lunch today.”</p><p>“But he might want the window curtain open,” Cas gasps, shaking in his chair.</p><p>“We’re going to talk about it with him, we’ll ask him not to. Do you need your ativan?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>They dispense the benzodiazepine medication to him and the nurse sits with him until he can breathe again. He still wonders where his wings went, he can’t feel them. But he’s sure they’re supposed to be there, he only can’t find them in the mirror when he looks…</p><p>Cas is on his third psychiatrist. The first two were demons. This one is a human, but at times it feels like he deliberately misunderstands everything. He’s tried several medications on Cas, which make Cas slow and tired and drooping. Cas inevitably refuses to take these medications and they return to square one. But Cas sees his psychiatrist this morning. They go through the routine: he needed his ativan, what happened? Does he know he’ll have a roommate soon? Has he been eating all his food like he’s supposed to? He didn’t go to group therapy yesterday afternoon, why not?</p><p>Lunch comes. Cas becomes increasingly nervous. His new roommate might be a demon, and he’ll just be stuck with it. He can’t eat his food and his fingers tap on the table against his will. He wants to fly out the window, but the windows don’t open here and his wings are still missing. Cas abandons his lunch tray and looks at the whiteboard to see - all the names are listed, along with the room number, the psychiatrist, and the assigned nurse of the day. Until now, the other slot for room 307 was blank. Now it reads in bright red marker WINCHESTER.</p><p>For fifty five days he’s had the room to himself. He doesn’t want to give up half of his safety to a demon, it’s distressing. He wants it to still be SHURLEY and then a blank line underneath.</p><p>The doors to the unit open and three people arrive: two in the forest green polo shirts which means they’re “transport” employees, and the third in between them wearing a plastic wristband and hospital pajamas. Cas risks it to look at his face… and can breathe again. This is not a demon. Sometimes the patients are demons, but this one is a person.</p><p>“Dean?” a nurse calls from the counter. “Why don’t you give me your things, I’ll lock them up for you and we can go do your intake.”</p><p>“Awesome,” the man - Dean Winchester - grumbles. He turns to Cas and glares. “The fuck you staring at? This ain’t the zoo, you sunuva bitch.”</p><p>“I’m sorry. You’re my roommate.”</p><p>“Yeah, whatever…”</p><p>Dean relinquishes his personal belongings to the nurse and she disappears him down the hall into an office. Cas wants to follow them and interrogate his new roommate about the window curtains, but he knows he’s not allowed to do that and so he goes back to his room. He’s still too nervous to finish his lunch and his socks are giving him sensory issues so he takes them off even though the nurses want him to wear them.</p><p>Group therapy starts in fifteen minutes, but Cas doesn’t leave his room. There are at least three patients in his group who are demons and he doesn’t want to be near them. And visiting hours will happen after that, which he’s disinterested in. He doesn’t want to see Raphael.</p><p>The nurse’s voice approaches from the hall.</p><p>“…and group starts in a few minutes, but you’ll be meeting your psychiatrist first and you can drop in for the rest of it afterwards. Now your roommate has a couple of requests, he’ll appreciate it if you don’t touch his personal items or open the curtain on the window, and try not to stand directly behind him either.”</p><p>“What’s wrong with him?”</p><p>“Well, that might be a question for him, right?”</p><p>“I fucking hate this, when can I leave?”</p><p>“Dean, you’re an involuntary admission. I’m sorry, but until the doctor knows you’re stable, you won’t be able to leave.”</p><p>“Well ain’t that a bitch.” Dean comes into the room and rolls his eyes. “Oh, it’s you.”</p><p>“Cas, this is Dean, he’ll be your roommate from now on.”</p><p>“Alright. He’s not a demon, I can be fine with this,” Cas informs her.</p><p>“Oh, fantastic. Can I be stuck with somebody less crazy?” Dean snaps.</p><p>“All the other beds are full.”</p><p>“Great.” Dean drops down to sit on the end of his bed and rubs his hand over his hair. He says nothing else until the nurse leaves. “So what the hell are you in for, huh?”</p><p>“My family sent me here. They believe I’m experiencing psychosis because I can see which people are actually demons. Why are you here?”</p><p>“None’a your fucking business. Why do you always stare at me like that?”</p><p>“People have told me in the past that eye contact facilitates better communication. Personally I don’t like looking at people most of the time, it’s distracting and at times frightening.”</p><p>Dean slowly nods and his face smooths a little. “Why aren’t you wearing socks?”</p><p>“They hurt my skin. So do shirt tags.”</p><p>“You got autism?”</p><p>Cas frowns. “How did you know?”</p><p>“A buddy’a mine had it, too.” Dean breaks eye contact in favor of watching the wall to his side. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”</p><p>“You seem distressed. Are you distressed?”</p><p>“I’m in a fucking mental hospital, what do you think?”</p><p>“Yes, that stands to reason. I’ve been here for approaching two months.”</p><p>“Sucks to be you, pal.”</p><p>“I’m glad you’re not a demon. I don’t do well with roommates.”</p><p>“Yeah well I don’t do well with lunatics, so I guess we’re both shit outta luck.” Dean points to the notebook on the desk. “They give you those here?”</p><p>“I don’t use it. It’s for writing down my feelings, but I don’t know what most of my feelings are called, so it does me no good.”</p><p>“Can I have it?”</p><p>“Yes. There should be a pen. Don’t touch the colored pencils, they’re in the correct order.”</p><p>“Yeah whatever.” Dean goes and scoops it up, then sticks it under his pillow. “Can’t sleep without something under there…”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Well, usually it’s a sidearm, but obviously they don’t let me have one here.”</p><p>“Are you okay?”</p><p>“No, Cas, I’m not okay! I wouldn’t be here if I was okay! Don’t ask dumb questions.”</p><p>“I’m sorry. Please don’t yell at me. Do you use guns a lot?”</p><p>“I used to be in the army. What part of ‘I don’t wanna talk about it’ is throwing you, here?”</p><p>Cas closes his mouth and says nothing else. He doesn’t understand why Dean is so angry. One of the psychiatrists appears and Cas immediately forgets Dean’s anger because he’s too busy scrambling into the corner, because that psychiatrist is a demon and so he needs to hide. Dean stares at him but follows the psychiatrist-demon out of the room.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Trigger warnings in endnotes.</p><p>My internet router stopped working and I have to post this chapter from my phone, so if I'm slow responding to comments, that's why.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Day sixty one.</p><p>Cas knows several things about Dean now: he likes pie, he writes a lot in the notebook, he hates nurses and doctors. And his sleep is constantly disturbed. Cas has been woken more than once already by his roommate’s night terrors, thrashing and screaming on the other side of the divider curtain.</p><p>Tonight is the night between Dean’s fourth and fifth days on the unit. Cas stays awake on purpose and listens for a very long time, noting the frequent “tossing and turning” of his roommate. Eventually it stops but that means nothing. Cas sits up in bed.</p><p>“Why aren’t you sleeping, Dean?” he whispers.</p><p>“’Cause I don’t wanna.”</p><p>“It’s good for you.”</p><p>A snort. “No. It’s not.”</p><p>“You scream in your sleep.”</p><p>“Yup.”</p><p>“I hope they can fix your nightmares here.”</p><p>He hears Dean shuffling and then the curtain separating their beds is yanked aside violently. “Will you shut up already? My sleep ain’t your problem, Cas.”</p><p>“But it is. You wake me up. Besides, it makes me sad.”</p><p>“Don’t bother being sad over me.” There’s an odd scratch to Dean’s voice. Cas wonders what that means. “Last person got sad over me’s the one who sent me here anyway…”</p><p>“Who?” Cas whispers.</p><p>“My brother Sammy. He’s the one who saw… he was checking in on me because I didn’t call for a couple weeks.” It’s amazing - Dean, now sitting on the edge of his bed, is finally explaining himself to Cas. “Can I ask you something?”</p><p>“Go ahead.”</p><p>“You ever. Cas, you ever try to kill yourself?”</p><p>“Yes. That’s what finally got me sent here. But it wasn’t true. I didn’t want to die, I was trying to fly. Apparently the fire department will arrive to retrieve you when you attempt to leap off of things.”</p><p>“Yeah, well… I was tryna die.” His voice cracks on the last syllable. “Sam came over at exactly the wrong moment and stopped me from blowing my own head off. But I was also on my second bottle of whiskey by then too. So he dragged my worthless ass to the ER and I got detoxed, and then they sent me here. I can’t sleep without it… not very well, anyway.”</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“Well, Doctor Giggles over there says post-trauma stress or what-fucking-ever. It’s a nice fancy word for the screaming in my head’s too loud and it fucks me up so bad the only way out is to die. They’re not gonna fix me here and you shouldn’t bother being sad. There’s nothing in me worth being sad over.”</p><p>The quiet footsteps of a nurse in the hallway alert them and they both lie down and pretend to sleep while she checks on them. Cas sits up again once he’s sure she left.</p><p>“I can watch over you while you sleep if you want.”</p><p>“What now?”</p><p>“I’m an angel. I know it’s difficult to tell at the moment because my wings are missing-”</p><p>“Okay - no. Don’t watch me sleep, that’s fucking creepy, man.”</p><p>“I just want to help,” Cas admits in a much smaller voice.</p><p>“Yeah, well…” Dean rolls over to face the wall instead of him. “I don’t think there is any helping.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Trigger warnings:</p><p>1. Dean has night terrors.<br/>2. Discussion of a suicide attempt.<br/>3. Mention of alcoholism.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm basically at the end of the fic right now, I only have to do another chapter or two and it will be fully written. We're looking at twenty six or twenty seven chapters total.</p><p>At my previous check on my statistics page, I have fourteen people subscribed to this fic... previously I've pretty much only written for small fandoms or rarepairs, and I would get five subscriptions at most. But I also know that Destiel or even SPN in general is a <em>huge</em> fandom, and there are so many fics available that many inevitably get missed. So I just want to say thank you, I love you guys and I feel appreciated ^_^</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Today is day sixty three. Cas crosses off another number on his hand-drawn calendar when he wakes up and then pokes Dean in the shoulder.</p><p>“It’s breakfast time.”</p><p>“Go away, Cas,” Dean whimpers from where he’s stuffed his head under his pillow.</p><p>“They’re only dreams,” he says, because he’s sure that’s what’s wrong. “Your mind is trying to hurt you but it can’t actually do anything.” Cas rests his palm on Dean’s back. “I can bring you a soda.”</p><p>“No.” A wet inward snort. “Go away.”</p><p>“I will, but only so that I can have some orange juice. I’ll be back again very soon.”</p><p>“Whatever.”</p><p>Cas does exactly what he said he’d do, retrieving his orange juice from his breakfast tray and opening it. As he’s walking back to his room a nurse stops him.</p><p>“Aren’t you going to eat your breakfast?”</p><p>“I don’t know. I need to go back to my room.”</p><p>“Why, is something wrong?”</p><p>“Dean’s sad and I want to help him.”</p><p>“Well somebody can go talk to Dean, you should go eat.”</p><p>“I’m not hungry.” It comes out of his mouth even though he didn’t think to say it, but he doesn’t care and walks quickly back to his room. Dean is right where Cas left him. “I’m back now.”</p><p>“Great.”</p><p>Cas carefully sits on the edge of the bed and puts his hand on Dean’s shoulder. He drinks his orange juice and wishes Dean can be okay. He likes Dean, even though he doesn’t believe Dean likes him very much.</p><p>“Why do you have so many bad dreams?”</p><p>“People I couldn’t save.” Dean takes a deep breath. “Other people who… who I <em> did </em> save, and then later I found out I should’a let ’em die. I guess I just always got it wrong.”</p><p>“And you dream about them?”</p><p>“They’re not… <em> dreams. </em> Okay, they’re reminders. I fucked up. Cas. I fucked up so bad, and I can’t fix it.”</p><p>Cas rubs his back a little, because on tv that’s something you do to help someone else feel better. Dean doesn’t start yelling at him for it, so he takes that as a positive affirmation and keeps doing it, very gently like with a baby animal. Dean trembles slightly under his palm but still makes no move to stop him.</p><p>“Do you… believe that you deserve to die because of that?”</p><p>“I don’t know. I don’t know what I deserve. But I can’t live with this, and I was <em> this close </em> to-”</p><p>Dean’s body seizes up as he cuts himself off and goes silent. Cas is forced to make a guess about what Dean was going to say.</p><p>“Your brother seems to love you very much. That’s why he stopped you.”</p><p>“You’re not my fucking therapist, don’t tell me that should be good enough because it ain’t. Trust me.”</p><p>“Actually I was going to say it would be incredibly unfair of you to drop all your pain on him that way. I’m sure he doesn’t deserve it any more than you do, and that would just be cruel.”</p><p>Dean is silent for much too long. Eventually: “You kinda got a point there, huh?”</p><p>“I know you don’t like me very much, but it would bother me if you died.”</p><p>“…I don’t hate you, Cas.” It’s whispered, muffled under the pillow that still covers Dean’s entire head. “I don’t. Really.”</p><p>Two nurses appear in the door of the room - one begins interrogating Dean and the other nicely asks Cas to come with her to morning group. The routine dictates that yes, he should do his therapy group this morning, so he does even though he’s worried about what’s going to happen with Dean.</p><p>There’s a whiteboard and the nurse running the group - a different nurse from the one who took him here - draws a line with a marker. On one end, the number -10, in the middle the number 0, and on the other end the number 10.</p><p>“So, for people who are mentally healthy, they’re usually on the ‘positive’ end. People who have difficulties with their mental health are below a zero,” she explains, pointing with capped end of the marker to indicate. “Now medication can get us from a negative to a zero, but what are some things we can do for ourselves to get to a positive number?”</p><p>“Adding Abilify,” Cas blurts out, because that’s what the commercials on tv say. The nurse is not impressed with his answer but all the other patients snicker.</p><p>Cas leaves just before the end of group to meet his psychiatrist… or so he thinks. It’s actually his brother Raphael waiting for him. Cas doesn’t appreciate this at all. Because of his autism as much as his alleged psychosis, he doesn’t have agency over his own life. That means Raphael is in charge, and Cas doesn’t get to leave the hospital until Raphael says so. But Cas is also horribly aware that Raphael doesn’t like him, and so he’ll never be allowed out.</p><p>“How are you?” Raphael asks, folding his hands on the table.</p><p>“Angry,” Cas spits. “I don’t want to see you, Raphael.”</p><p>“Yes. Well… you don’t really have a choice, do you?”</p><p>“It’s almost time for lunch. You’re interrupting my routine.”</p><p>“Your doctor says you still haven’t made any progress at all. It’s been over two months. I’m starting to think-”</p><p>“Don’t transfer me again,” Cas immediately begs. “Please. I’m used to the staff here and they know me very well by now.”</p><p>Raphael watches him in silence for a moment. “Improve by the end of next week or we’re finding a different hospital. You need to be fixed, not eternally baby-sat.”</p><p>Cas can’t breathe. He hates being near Raphael, Raphael makes him too anxious. He taps his fingertips on the table. “I need my ativan.”</p><p>“You need to calm down.”</p><p>“I need my ativan,” he insists, much louder this time.</p><p>“Sit down, Castiel.”</p><p>When did he stand? His fingernails bite into his palms. His muscles shake treacherously.</p><p>“I’m getting my medication,” he yells at his brother, immediately turning and leaving the room.</p><p>Cas doesn’t run for the nurses’ station because they’ve told him multiple times to not do that. He really wants to, though, especially because his brother is following him at a brisk pace.</p><p>“This conversation was scheduled and we need to keep having it.” Raphael grabs him by the arm.</p><p>Cas yanks away. “DON’T TOUCH ME!” And now he does run even though it’s against the rules. He reaches his destination and slaps his palm frantically on the counter to get the nurse’s attention. “I need my ativan…” The words almost can’t come out because he isn’t breathing well.</p><p>“Castiel-”</p><p>Cas backs away from Raphael, shaking his head. He can’t. He can’t. His lungs won’t breathe and he shakes uncontrollably.</p><p>“Hey!” barks a voice, and then there’s a hand on Cas’s shoulder, grounding him instantly. “The hell’s going on?”</p><p>“Nothing that’s any of your business,” Raphael says in <em> that voice </em> that always makes Cas afraid of what he’s about to do.</p><p>Dean does not, apparently, have the same issue, because now he steps so that he’s between Cas and Raphael.</p><p>“We gonna have a problem here, pal? ’Cause it looks to me like you’re doing something wrong here, not him.”</p><p>“He’s my brother and this isn’t your concern.”</p><p>Dean raises both palms and shoves Raphael so hard that he staggers back several feet and almost falls. “You picking on guys who can’t defend themselves around me automatically makes it my fucking concern, so how ’bout you just get the hell outta here before I kick your skinny little ass!”</p><p>Several nurses are now present, likely to call a code green and subdue Dean. Cas doesn’t want a code green, he doesn’t want Dean to get tackled and possibly injected with tranquilizers. Nobody stands up to Raphael. <em> Ever. </em> Especially not in defense of Cas (or at least, not since Cas was a child). Cas wants Dean to not be punished for it, for being brave. So he distracts the nurses by sitting on the floor and hugging himself, indicating to them that yes, he’s still having a severe panic attack and they need to help him. (And it’s not even a lie, so he doesn’t feel bad about it.) The situation gets diffused. Raphael signs out and leaves.</p><p>Dean doesn’t leave. He looks around for Cas and then also sits on the floor.</p><p>“You okay?”</p><p>Cas shakes his head and hugs himself tighter. A nurse gives him his ativan and a carton of orange juice, and once he’s taken it Dean’s arm moves across his shoulders. Cas lets the nurses pat his hands sometimes but in general doesn’t like to be touched by people… this, though, he’s alright with. Dean will protect him from Raphael. He’s safe with Dean.</p><p>“What the hell was that all about, Cas?”</p><p>He can almost breathe again but still struggles to speak. “He. That’s my brother. He has agency over me. And. He. And.”</p><p>“Okay, deep breaths, buddy.”</p><p>“Yes.” He gasps. “Raphael has agency. He might make me transfer to a different hospital. I don’t want to go.”</p><p>“Why would he do that?”</p><p>“I’m not ‘improving’ fast enough. That makes him angry. He controls my life, Dean. I can’t come back to the outside world until he says so.”</p><p>“That’s so fucking shitty.”</p><p>“Yes. And he doesn’t like me. I have autism and I’m gay, that goes against his natural order of things. Dean, I don’t want to change hospitals again. This one is familiar and the nurses aren’t mean to me.”</p><p>“Okay, okay, um. I might be able to help. My brother’s a lawyer. How long do you have?”</p><p>“Until the end of next week.”</p><p>“Awesome,” Dean grumbles, probably sarcastically. “Alright, he’s driving up to see me tomorrow during visiting hours, I’ll call him and tell him to bring all his legal shit.”</p><p>The lunch cart arrives, but Cas doesn’t stand up. He knows he skipped breakfast too but the worker pushing the cart is a demon, so he doesn’t want to eat off one of those trays. A nurse crouches in front of both of them.</p><p>“Cas, are you going to eat with us?”</p><p>“I’m not hungry.” Raphael always takes a lot out of him. “I would like one of the weight-blankets, I need to lie down.”</p><p>Interestingly, Dean doesn’t move until Cas does. Cas goes back to their room with a weight blanket, which he fully intends to take a nap under. Very surprisingly Dean also comes into the room, holding his lunch tray. He sets down another carton of orange juice on the mattress beside Cas’s pillow.</p><p>“Here.”</p><p>“Thank you. For the juice, and also for fighting off my brother. Nobody ever does that for me anymore.”</p><p>“Your brother’s a dick.”</p><p>“Yes, I know. I like you, Dean. We should be friends.”</p><p>“No chick-flick moments while I’m eating.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I do not think I will ever get used to living in a world where I get a hundred hits per week and have twenty three subscribers to a fic, seriously both of those things have probably put years on my life. You, reader checking this note before diving into the chapter, are the best and I love you ^_^ &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His sixty fourth day - a moment of truth. Today, Cas does eat his lunch, sitting at a table in the corner with Dean because he feels safer sitting in a corner. He feels safer with Dean in general. He likes Dean.</p><p>“What’s your favorite flavor of pie, Dean?”</p><p>“Hmm…” Dean chews, likely thinking. “That’s tough. I guess it depends who makes it. Apple’s usually right up near the top’a the list, though.”</p><p>“What can I reasonably expect from your brother? Will he mind that I can see all the demons?”</p><p>“Nah, I talked to him about that. He knows everything already and he won’t hold it against you or anything. Mostly he was just surprised that I wasn’t tryna bite his head off, he’s the one who put me here so… I ain’t exactly been that nice to him lately.”</p><p>“I appreciate this more than I can say,” Cas admits. “If I’m going to spend the rest of my life in a psychiatric facility, I would prefer it to be this one. I don’t enjoy change, especially when it’s forced on me.”</p><p>“Alright. Well, don’t worry about it, Sammy’s a genius and he’ll find a way to get Raphael to fuck right off.”</p><p>Cas nods and returns his attention to the plate of spaghetti in front of him. After sixty four days, he does sometimes wish there were more items on the meal list, because on a menu of twenty or so items only eleven are palatable to him due to his sensory issues. (He never understands why so many foods require cooked onion, slices of cooked onion remind him of chewing on worms if worms had bones.)</p><p>In only eight days, Cas has been compiling an understanding of Dean Winchester. A severely broken man, yes. An unemployable and non-functioning alcoholic, absolutely. But since yesterday, during the incident with Raphael, Dean has been considerably less… mopey. From this, combined with Dean’s previous comments, Cas has ascertained that Dean functions best when he has something or someone to protect and look after. Cas wonders if all this time what Dean has really needed is a puppy. He also wonders if he should suggest that to Sam in a few minutes.</p><p>But Cas catalogs other things about Dean - his sharp green eyes, his hair which depending on the light can be either light brown or dark blonde and is a grown-out version of a typical military cut. And how much bigger he is than Cas, how much stronger. There isn’t a significant height difference between them but Dean probably has fifteen pounds on him.</p><p>Approximately thirty six minutes after lunch ends, Sam Winchester arrives.</p><p>“Hi, Dean.”</p><p>“Sammy. This is Cas. Cas, he a demon?”</p><p>“No. He is unreasonably tall, but he’s human.”</p><p>“Uh. Right.” Sam sits down. “So Dean said that your older brother has agency over you and you’re looking to challenge…”</p><p>They talk for some time while Dean fidgets in a nearby chair and sometimes interrupts Sam with sarcastic remarks.</p><p>“How much will I have to pay?” Cas asks eventually, very quietly. He has no resources.</p><p>“You won’t, I know you can’t and what your brother’s doing to you is straight up abuse, plain and simple. I’m between cases right now anyway and I’ve got plenty of savings, so I’ll do it pro bono.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>“One thing you should really understand going in, it’s probably not going to happen that you’ll be allowed to have agency over yourself. You’ve been experiencing recurring episodes of psychosis which so far isn’t controlled by medication or therapy, and that combined with your autism means you’ll have a really difficult time proving to anybody that you can take care of yourself without some kind of help. Are there any other family members besides Raphael who you’d be more comfortable having agency over you?”</p><p>“Possibly my sister Anna. We’re not always on the best terms, but I’m confident she wouldn’t deliberately harm me. I believe the nurses will have contact info for her, and if not they will have the info for my father and you can reach her through him.”</p><p>“But you don’t want your father having agency?”</p><p>“No, absolutely not. He turned me over to Raphael in the first place.”</p><p>“Okay, I’ll get into contact with your sister and then with Raphael’s legal office to notify him that we’re contesting your agency. While it’s being contested, I can probably block him from transferring you to a different facility.”</p><p>Cas nods. “Thank you, both of you. I don’t enjoy being moved.”</p><p>He gets up briefly to find a carton of orange juice in the patient fridge, and apparently five feet is enough distance for people to believe he can no longer hear them somehow.</p><p>Whispered: “Your new boyfriend is cute.”</p><p>“Shut up, Sammy,” Dean hisses.</p><p>“No, I mean it.”</p><p>“So did I, shut the fuck up.”</p><p>“Dean are you gay?” Cas blurts out, unable to stop his mouth from making the words.</p><p>Dean fidgets. “No, I’m… just less straight than most guys-”</p><p>“He’s bisexual,” Sam interrupts. “Dean, just learn to get more comfortable with that word, you’ll hate yourself so much less.”</p><p>“Don’t you know you’re not supposed to out people?”</p><p>“He’s right, actually,” Cas points out. “You could’ve jeopardized your brother’s safety.”</p><p>“Okay. Uh. He did mention you being gay as part of Raphael’s problem with you already, and I also think that Dean could take you in a fight. Guys, I’m here to help.”</p><p>“Sammy, I’m not here to find dates,” Dean snaps.</p><p>“I know you’re-y’know what, stop calling me Sammy, Dean!”</p><p>“Okay, bitch.”</p><p>While they’re busy arguing with each other, a patient-demon passes by. Cas hides behind the fridge.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I have no idea how legal shit actually works. Hopefully I'm not getting too much wrong.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HOW DID I MANAGE TO GET THIRTY THREE SUBSCRIBERS. I don't think I will <em>ever</em> get used to writing for a fandom that isn't obscure as hell, I never used to get so much attention and it makes me feel spoiled a little bit ^_^</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Today is day sixty five. Cas decides to attend afternoon group, but only because Dean has promised to go with him. There are four demons in this group and Cas still doesn’t know what happened to his wings, but Dean used to kill people for a living so if he’s there Cas is safe for sure and it doesn’t matter so much.</p><p>“We’re going to do some exercises on paper today,” the nurse says, handing small notepads and pencils to everyone. “First, if there’s one thing you could go back and tell your past self, what would it be?”</p><p>Cas instantly begins writing. <em> Dear Castiel from five months ago, please do not try to fly off the bridge over the interstate. Your wings are missing and the fire department will arrive to bring you to “safety,” and then Raphael will be in charge of your life. That aside, you will also be faced with multiple demons who you can’t fight or escape from, which means you’ll need to hide very often. It’s exhausting. Please wait to fly until your wings come back. </em></p><p>Miraculously, Dean is also writing something down, which Cas didn’t expect. He’d thought his friend would sit and refuse to participate.</p><p>The following exercise is simpler in appearance, but in reality significantly more difficult: write down the names of five people who care about him. Cas is stumped for a moment because he’s not sure there are five… possibly three, tops. He scrounges his brain and begins listing.</p><p>
  <em>1. my brother Gabriel</em><br/>
<em> 2. my sister Anna<br/>
3.</em>
</p><p>Cas stares at the paper in his hand, tapping his fingertips on his knee.</p><p>
  <em> 3. </em>
</p><p>He continues tapping and chews his lower lip.</p><p>
  <em> 3. </em>
</p><p>Hmm.</p><p>
  <em> 3. </em>
</p><p>And then it comes to him.</p><p>
  <em> 3. Dean Winchester </em>
</p><p>Cas glances at Dean, who’s also struggling with his list and hasn’t made it beyond writing his brother at number one.</p><p>“Me,” he whispers.</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“Me. Put me on your list, Dean. You’re on mine.”</p><p>“Okay. Whatever.” But Dean scrawls <em> Cas Shurley </em> on his paper.</p><p>They go through further exercises, and then the nurse asks them to share. They go around the room in a circle, eventually coming to Dean. Cas watches him fidget and stare at the floor before reading what he wrote for the first exercise.</p><p>“Um. If I could go back and tell my past self something. I would. I would tell him to not listen to my dad and never join the army in the first place. It fucked me up so bad, I should’a tried harder to figure out a different job. I had some good friends there but. Maybe they would’a been better off if they never met me. Probably at least a few’a them would. Would still be alive. And uh…” Dean shakes his head and crumples the paper. “I ain’t reading the rest’a this.”</p><p>“Okay, well, thank you for participating, Dean. Cas?”</p><p>He reads aloud what he wrote, unflinchingly. Two demons and one patient snicker as he talks until Dean glowers at them, and Cas is very glad Dean came with him. When the remaining patients have completed the exercise, the group is let go and Cas sits in front of the tv for a few minutes. Despite flipping through at least three times, he finds nothing worth watching, and so relinquishes the remote to another patient before returning to his room while he waits for dinner to arrive.</p><p>Dean sits on the edge of his bed, staring holes into the wall. “Cas, I need a favor.”</p><p>“Alright.”</p><p>“Bring me my tray in a couple minutes.”</p><p>Cas sighs through his nose. “Dean, I would like to do that for you, but I don’t think it’s allowed. They’ll assume I’m stealing your meal. However I will take my tray here as well, and you won’t have to eat by yourself.”</p><p>“Awesome.”</p><p>“Dean, are you sad?”</p><p>A shrug, although he does speak several seconds later. “Yeah, Cas. I’m sad.”</p><p>He struggles to remember what the rule is for this. “Would you like to talk about it? You can cry too if you want, I won’t tell anybody.”</p><p>Dean snorts. “I ain’t gonna cry when you can see me.”</p><p>“But won’t you be less sad if you cry?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Do you need a hug?”</p><p>“I thought you hate touching people.”</p><p>“That’s irrelevant to the conversation.”</p><p>“It won’t help anyway.”</p><p>“Alright, if you’re sure.” They leave briefly to retrieve their lunch trays and then sit on their beds facing each other. “Dean, correct me if I’m wrong, but there are other food groups besides pie.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“It could have something to do with your unhappiness, you’re nutrient deficient because you ignore the rest of your food.”</p><p>“Cas, are you my psychiatrist?” Dean asks, suddenly and in a harsh voice.</p><p>“No-”</p><p>“Then shut up and eat your damn food.”</p><p>For a moment Cas forgets how to speak. He swallows and digs up some words. “I’m sorry, Dean. I want to help, that’s all.”</p><p>“That ain’t your job, man.”</p><p>“I know. I’m sorry.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There are now thirty seven of you subscribed to my fic, which is a fact that brings me an absurd amount of joy ^_^</p><p>Trigger warnings in endnotes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sixty sixth day is interesting because there’s a snowstorm outside and several staff are missing from the unit.</p><p>What this means is nurses from other units of the hospital, and who aren’t familiar with the patients here. What this means for Cas specifically is one of them standing directly behind him, which is never something that goes well because it’s essentially his “instant panic attack” button. It becomes an ordeal, especially with Dean nearby to witness this and then starting to yell at the nurses as Cas’ legs go out from under him while he hyperventilates. That incites a code green called on Dean - multiple staff pile on him and inject him with tranquilizers before dragging him away. Cas is given his ativan and both of them lie on their beds in silence for awhile.</p><p>“Dean.”</p><p>“Mm.”</p><p>“Are you okay?”</p><p>“Nope.” He says the word with a deliberate popping noise. “You?”</p><p>“I wanted a weight blanket but the nurse said no because the ativan should do the trick on its own.”</p><p>“Tha’s jus’ mean, man…” Dean slurs. “Ain’they s’posed’ta be helpin’ you an’ shit?”</p><p>“It’s not the blanket necessarily, it’s the compression. It’s about being squeezed into the mattress, it stops me from feeling like I’ll float away from the world or fall off of something. It’s grounding, it’s comforting. Like a hug, except… much less unbearable.”</p><p>“Why d’you hate hugs, Cas?”</p><p>“I don’t always hate them. But it’s a special privilege. Most people aren’t allowed.”</p><p>“Huh.” Dean sounds sleepy. “Uh. Here…”</p><p>Cas looks just in time for Dean to fall out of bed and onto the floor.</p><p>“Dean-”</p><p>“’M okay, ’m okay. Gimme a sec’n…”</p><p>Cas moves to help and Dean essentially climbs upright using him as a ladder. Dean’s pretty green eyes are glazed over and half-awake, and Cas stumbles under the drugged weight of his friend. But Dean is cognizant, just uncoordinated at the moment. He gets Cas to lay on his stomach on the bed, and then lies down on Cas’s back. The compression is better than any weight blanket ever manufactured.</p><p>Cas closes his eyes and immediately relaxes. He doesn’t think he would ever let anybody besides Dean do this for him, because he doesn’t like to be touched and he doesn’t like people behind him where he can’t see them. But Dean is… special, somehow. Even if they haven’t known each other very long.</p><p>“Thank you, Dean.”</p><p>“Mm-hm.” Dean nods slightly against the back of his head. “You’re g’nna be okay…”</p><p>Yes, he probably is. Cas manages to even take a nap like this, pleasantly trapped by the heavy warmth. When he wakes up Dean is still there and a nurse is checking on them - Cas has been roused by them arguing.</p><p>“I don’t give a damn how ‘appropriate’ you think it is, you could’a just gave him one’a them blankets in the first place,” Dean snaps. He sounds like the tranquilizer has worn off.</p><p>“Did I miss lunch?” Cas asks, interrupting them.</p><p>“No, it’ll be here in a couple minutes.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>The nurse only goes away when Dean gets off the bed, which leaves Cas with an abrupt shock of much cooler air across his entire back. He rolls over and sits up.</p><p>“You fell asleep on me, man.”</p><p>“I know. It’s likely a combination of the benzodiazepine and the fact that you give me a sense of safety.”</p><p>Dean’s eyebrows move. “Really.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>A shrug. “Hm.” And Dean immediately changes the subject. “Sam might be up again today to talk to you some more, you think you can handle it?”</p><p>“Yes, I should be fine. I don’t find your brother unnerving or distressing.”</p><p>“Good, he’s gonna help you unfuck your life.”</p><p>They go to the day room to eat their lunches. Cas feels refreshed and calm after his nap, and with Dean sitting at the same table it’s easy for him to not be afraid of the demons despite the strange staff that are present today.</p><p>“Isn’t he here to see you as well?”</p><p>“Yeah, he’s gonna ask me if I took my meds and shit, and if my post-trauma what-fucking-ever is getting better,” Dean shrugs.</p><p>“Is it?” Cas wonders.</p><p>“Nah, not really. It’s not gonna, though. There ain’t any ‘better’ for me, there’s just ‘bad’ or ‘extra bad’ days.”</p><p>“You don’t like to take your medications,” he observes.</p><p>“They make me tired and sick.”</p><p>“Yes, that does seem to be a common grievance.”</p><p>“You’re not on anything,” Dean points out.</p><p>“Ativan.”</p><p>“You know what I mean.”</p><p>“Antipsychotics have horrendous side-effects and require weeks or months to achieve the desired results. Forgive me for not appreciating that.”</p><p>“Well, there you go, you know what I’m bitching about over here,” Dean grunts.</p><p>They eat in silence for a few minutes. More accurately, Cas eats. Dean pokes at his own food with his fork and doesn’t take actual bites.</p><p>“May I ask a question?”</p><p>“You just did.” Cas glares and Dean snickers. “Sure, man, go ahead.”</p><p>“You and your brother have both taken an interest in helping me disentangle my issues. So in return, is there anything I can do for you to help you? Considering you’re also in a state of extreme difficulty.”</p><p>Dean’s facial expression becomes blank, not that Cas can generally read expressions to begin with. “You do help,” he says after a moment in a tone of voice Cas also doesn’t understand. “You don’t gotta worry about owing me or anything. You help.”</p><p>Cas nods slowly. “Alright, if you’re sure.”</p><p>“How long you been locked up by now?”</p><p>Cas is surprised by the sudden change in subject, but decides not to resist. “In this hospital specifically, sixty six days. Total, it’s been five and a half months since the incident on the overpass. You’ve been here for nine days.”</p><p>“Super.”</p><p>“I appreciate the structure and routine, if I’m honest.”</p><p>“You skip therapy half the time.”</p><p>“Only if there are too many demons.”</p><p>“Yeah, okay. Cas, you’re <em> clearly </em> not beyond saving, okay? I think you should-you should get to leave this place and breathe free air again. So you should try harder at the therapy shit, okay?”</p><p>“Dean-”</p><p>“Hey, me and Sammy are tryna help you, right? There’s no reason for you to rot in this hellhole forever.”</p><p>“The demons… I don’t necessarily feel safe enough attending therapy groups.”</p><p>“Then - I’ll keep going with you.”</p><p>“But you hate therapy.”</p><p>“But I want you to get better.”</p><p>Cas picks up his dessert and places it on the other lunch tray as an offering. “You’re a good friend, Dean.”</p><p>“If you say so.” Dean eats the cookie in about two bites. “Hm, these ain’t bad. Pie’s better though.”</p><p>Sam does indeed arrive after lunch, if a few minutes later than expected due to the poor weather conditions.</p><p>“How’re you doing, Cas?”</p><p>“I’m alright.”</p><p>“I managed to get in contact with Anna, and she said that she’s willing to take your agency from Raphael. We’re starting to contest on your behalf, and you’ll probably be really glad to hear that until this gets resolved, Raphael can’t send you anywhere else. You’ll stay here for now, at least until the case is wrapped up. Okay?”</p><p>“Excellent, thank you.”</p><p>“Good job, Sammy.”</p><p>“Dean, stop <em> calling </em> me that. I’m not six.”</p><p>“You love it,” Dean snickers.</p><p>“Supposing we succeed and Anna gains agency over me, what happens after?” Cas wonders.</p><p>“Well, um, it means that any medical and psychiatric treatments will be run by her. But hopefully whenever possible they’ll also have to get your consent, too. You’re cognizant and more or less aware of your surroundings, so I’m gonna do my best to make sure you have some say in things going forward. You will probably be able to leave the hospital eventually.”</p><p>“I’m not sure that I want to,” Cas confesses. “I know what to expect here, it’s predictable and stable most of the time.”</p><p>“I understand that, but your sister would probably appreciate having you out, and maybe you have friends who can help support you…”</p><p>“I don’t, really,” he says, shaking his head. “I have Anna. My father calls once in awhile, but he doesn’t tend to show much interest. I lost contact with Gabriel when I was sent here. And I don’t have a place to live.”</p><p>“Okay, we can get that straightened out for you, though. There are plenty of options available for community support, and because you’re legally disabled your medical insurance will cover a surprising amount of stuff. Besides that there are lots of programs for assistance that you almost definitely qualify for.”</p><p>“Do they have one to find me a new boyfriend?”</p><p>Sam laughs. “Uh, probably not.”</p><p>“It… was a joke,” Cas explains, feeling awkward for saying it now.</p><p>“Aw, c’mon, Sammy, you’re always tryna hook me up with your gay friends, maybe you can help him out,” Dean grins.</p><p>“Zeppelin’s overrated,” Sam says, very randomly.</p><p>Dean’s expression is immediately one Cas can recognize as <em> pissed. </em> “I’m gonna kill you the second I’m free’a this place,” he snaps.</p><p>“Jerk.”</p><p>“Bitch.”</p><p>“If you keep interrupting while I’m helping my client, I’m going to drag you to silent independent art films from Europe every weekend from the time you get discharged to the day you die.”</p><p>“Please shoot me, it’d be less cruel.”</p><p>Cas notes a shift in both their posture, but he doesn’t quite understand why.</p><p>“Dean, that’s. That’s not funny anymore.”</p><p>“Yeah, I know.”</p><p>Both their voices are quiet now and Cas remembers that Dean was three seconds from pulling the trigger on himself when Sam walked in. Thinking about Dean with a gun in his mouth makes Cas feel sick.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Trigger warnings:</p><p>1. Dean gets subdued with tranquilizers by hospital staff for an outburst.<br/>2. Mentions of Dean's previous attempt at suicide.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Fifty subscriptions now on this fic - and incidentally I'm visibly keeping track like this because I'm just so overwhelmed at not being in a tiny fandom and/or Rarepair Hell anymore and my fics actually getting significant attention. Later, I will go back and look at the chapter notes when all of them have been posted, and grin stupidly to myself seeing the number go up each time :D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nighttime, between days sixty seven and sixty eight. Cas is not in his own bed.</p><p>“Your dad’s a dick,” Dean mumbles, squeezing him a little.</p><p>“Yes,” Cas agrees. It’s been hours and he’s had his ativan. He should not still be panicking. “I think he’s indifferent to my safety and happiness.”</p><p>“You’re gonna be okay,” Dean whispers against the back of his head. “You’re always okay again eventually. You’re gonna be okay.”</p><p>And Cas believes that, because it’s Dean saying it. He trusts Dean, feels safe with Dean. Dean who right now is being the “big spoon.” The nurses who do checks every half hour don’t like it, but Dean repeatedly got cranky with them and refused to budge, and by now they’ve given up trying to get Cas back to his side of the room.</p><p>“Will you also be okay eventually?” The words make themselves without his permission even though he knows the answer to this question.</p><p>“Cas…”</p><p>“I worry over you.”</p><p>“Yeah, well… don’t. Worry about yourself, focus on getting better.” Dean doesn’t seem to be angry. “Try not to breathe so hard, okay? Breathe slower, it’ll help.”</p><p>He does his best to follow Dean’s instructions. “How do I stop my family members from visiting?”</p><p>“You prob’ly just tell the nurses not to let them in.” Dean pulls the thin hospital blankets slightly higher up, tucking the corner around him. “I’m prob’ly not gonna sleep, but you can if you want. I won’t make you go anywhere.”</p><p>Cas nods and closes his eyes, immeasurably grateful for the feeling of being nestled between Dean’s arms and chest. Dean is special and important. Cas isn’t sure but he suspects that Dean is the type of friend that one hangs onto. He falls asleep by accident and wakes up on the morning of day sixty eight with Dean not only still wrapped around him from behind but also slumbering peacefully for a change. Usually he’ll be awake before Cas, regardless of whether he actually gets out of bed.</p><p>Cas immediately becomes conflicted. Dean sleeps terribly and most likely won’t appreciate being disturbed, but Cas is hungry and needs to use the bathroom. Ultimately it’s beyond his control because a nurse appears.</p><p>“He’s sleeping,” Cas whispers.</p><p>“It’s time for breakfast,” she insists in an overly-cheerful voice. She reaches over Cas and nudges Dean’s shoulder until he begins to grumble. “Good morning, Dean!”</p><p>“No,” Dean growls, snuggling Cas closer and then stilling again.</p><p>“Your breakfast is here, and you should probably let Cas get up so he can eat, too.”</p><p>Dean actually <em> snarls </em> at her, but does eventually release Cas from his grip. Cas changes into a fresh pair of hospital pajamas; Dean doesn’t bother. They head out for breakfast and Cas watches him drink three cups of coffee but fail to eat anything besides two strips of bacon.</p><p>“Dean-”</p><p>“Save it. I ain’t hungry.”</p><p>“Dean, I wish you would take care of yourself.”</p><p>“Not worth the effort,” Dean shrugs.</p><p>“But you have the effort to try to help me on a daily basis.”</p><p>“Hey, if you’re gonna bitch and moan about it, I can stop.”</p><p>“That’s not what I meant.”</p><p>“Then what did you mean?” Dean demands. He seems angry for some reason. “Huh? C’mon, what’d you mean?”</p><p>“You’re so sad, Dean,” Cas says, very quietly. He’s concerned his friend will start yelling or throwing things - it wouldn’t be the first time. Dean gets upset very easily and when he gets upset he gets violent. “I believe, personally, that you are in fact worth the time and effort to be made well again. It hurts me that you’re sad. I want you to feel better. That’s all, that’s all I meant. I’m sorry.”</p><p>Dean has a similar appearance to a deflating balloon. Cas isn’t sure whether that’s a good, bad, or neutral sign.</p><p>“Whatever, pal.”</p><p>“You’re my friend, Dean. I like you. I want your situation to improve. So please, eat your eggs.”</p><p>For an uncomfortable moment Dean stares at him while slowly taking a bite of the eggs in question and chewing in what seems to be a deliberate manner. Cas feels fixed by those green eyes and doesn’t dare move. Ordinarily, Dean makes him feel secure. But now, Cas is suddenly very afraid of him. It’s discomforting and unexpected and he doesn’t appreciate it.</p><p>And he realizes that it reminds him of Raphael.</p><p>“Dean please don’t look at me like that.” Volatile. Yes, that’s the word he wants. Volatile. That’s how the situation is, or at least how it feels.</p><p>“Like what?” Dean frowns at him.</p><p>“Please,” Cas begs, unable to explain himself. Words desert him.</p><p>“What-what did I do?” Dean asks, shaking his head slightly. “Cas - hey, c’mon, buddy. Calm down, okay?”</p><p>Hands. Big, callused palms rest on Cas’ forearms, anchoring him gently to the table. Dean’s eyes are very green, and Cas uses this fact as his focal point, dragging himself back to the land of relative stability. He carefully and silently makes an assessment to determine what went wrong and decides that, in fact, Dean did not scare him on purpose. There was a misunderstanding here, a communication breakdown.</p><p>“Please don’t be angry with me.”</p><p>“I’m not, I’m not. Are you okay?”</p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p>“Alright, well - finish your breakfast.”</p><p>Cas frowns at him. “Your hypocrisy knows no bounds.”</p><p>Interestingly, Dean grins slightly at that. “Guess so. Here, we’ll do it together.”</p><p>Dean’s mood swings and generally unpredictable disposition aren’t unfamiliar to Cas, but usually they entail “bad mood,” “worse mood,” “inconsolably sad,” and “homicidally violent.” Until the past three seconds of this morning, he hasn’t seen Dean in anything even <em> approaching </em> what could be considered a “good mood”. He’s not sure what to do with this information, how to process it. It’s just so abnormal that he has no choice but to continue eating his toast in silence. Thankfully, Dean is also eating his eggs as promised.</p><p>Rescue from Cas’ confused thoughts comes unexpectedly in the form of a phone call from Sam, who updates him on the case. Once business has been concluded Cas recounts Dean’s behavior and asks for an explanation.</p><p>“Has he been taking his meds?” is Sam’s first question.</p><p>“Yes,” Cas answers slowly. “Although they don’t seem to be having an effect. I see him receiving them each morning but there’s been no changes to speak of in regards to his behavior.”</p><p>“Until now,” Sam says. “So they could be kicking in finally. But the thing is, uh, Dean really hates feeling vulnerable. More than most people, I mean. So if you spent all last night cuddling up to him like that, it could be making him panic and that’s why his mood instability is more erratic than usual. Cas - he’ll never admit it to you, but he cares about you a lot and it scares him.”</p><p>“Why does he find me so distressing?”</p><p>“Because he thinks it’s his job to take care of everybody and you’re… disadvantaged. Your situation isn’t ideal. And I’m sure this won’t come as a shock, but my brother is really messed up. He hates himself so much that all he can do right now is think about trying to help you because the idea of trying to accept help for himself is either unthinkable or unbearable. Just be careful, okay? He’s fragile, that’s why he’s in there with you in the first place.”</p><p>“Yes, I understand.”</p><p>“Good. Um, don’t tell him about this conversation either, it won’t help him.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So ummm... brace yourselves, guys. Next week's chapter is going to go after you with a sledgehammer.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Fifty three subscribers! I feel seen but like. in a good way :)</p><p>Trigger warnings in endnotes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s day seventy one for Cas; Dean has been here two weeks. This fact is largely irrelevant to their lives… or it would be, if Dean’s medical insurance wasn’t doing everything in its power to eject him from inpatient care.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam, naturally, is not having this, and is going after them for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Sure, man. Do whatever you gotta do to sleep at night,” Dean grunts and hangs up the patient phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did he say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He said basically I’m still sick enough that he’s gonna make their lives miserable until they agree to cover my stay ‘until such point as I’m well enough to leave without being a danger to myself and others.’ Fucking bullshit. It doesn’t even matter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cas, just shut up, okay? I ain’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> gonna be convinced the world wouldn’t be a brighter place without me in it, so this is a giant fucking waste’a my time right now. So just - stop. Okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, Dean,” Cas agrees, very quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean is either extra-tired or extra-sad today, so he refuses to go to afternoon group and elects to stay in bed after lunch. Cas isn’t interested in going either without Dean to protect him from the demons. So, instead, he sits quietly at the desk in their shared room and fills in mandala prints with colored pencils, listening to his friend breathe. Cas makes it through one and a half of these prints before dinner. He knows better than to ask if Dean is okay by now. The answer is always no.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas isn’t able to convince Dean to get up and eat, so he brings his own meal and eats it on his bed because he doesn’t want Dean to be lonely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You won’t even go get your pie?” Cas asks, because this question is usually permissible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not hungry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you deserve to have pie, Dean. Think of the sugary goodness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cas, stop it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Cas knows something’s wrong, because Dean will usually still go for pie if nothing else. He doesn’t say anything, though, because he doesn’t want to make whatever Dean’s issue is even worse. This moment is when Cas very randomly notices that Dean isn’t as big anymore - not that he’s shorter or small in any way, but that he’s less bulky… he’s losing weight. His hospital pajamas are just slightly too loose now. Cas isn’t sure what to do with this information; all he knows for sure is that it makes him even more uneasy than he already was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The situation does not improve as the evening continues. Another patient (thankfully not a demon) arrives briefly to inform Dean that he has a call, and they both assume it’ll be Sam again, so Cas follows his friend to the patient phone once again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean puts it to his ear. “Hello?” And there’s an instant change in his body posture. His eyes open wider and his other hand balls into a fist. “Yes sir. Yes. No, I-I’m sorry. No, I just… Sammy said…” He’s quiet for a long moment. Cas puts a hand on his shoulder but he shrugs away. “Yes sir.” And hangs up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who was that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My dad.” Dean’s breathing too heavily for someone standing still. “Fuck…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean flees. Cas doesn’t chase after him right away, instead electing to retrieve an orange juice from the patient fridge. He drinks all of it and goes for a second one as well, along with a can of ginger ale because he’s seen Dean drink those on occasion, likely as a substitute for alcohol. Both of these items travel back to his room with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I brought you a soda,” Cas announces on arrival. Dean, who’s in bed with his head buried under the pillow, says nothing. Cas sets the can on his bedside table and sits at the desk. “I have the impression that you shouldn’t accept further calls from your father.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Prob’ly not,” Dean mumbles, so muffled by the pillow that it’s almost indecipherable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is your relationship to him as bad as the one I have with mine?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How much worse?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Chuck never beat the shit outta you, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“…no,” Cas answers softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There you go.” Dean sits up abruptly to look at him. “Look, buddy, I’m not… how ’bout you go watch tv or something, okay? I need some space…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nods. “Alright. Feel better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he leaves the room, he hears the distinct cracking pop of a soda can being breached, and that makes him slightly less nervous because at least he knows Dean will be hydrated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t feel especially good about leaving his friend to sulk, but he also knows it’s better to respect Dean’s wishes because several other people have found out that not doing so is an excellent way to be on the receiving end of objects being pegged at their heads. Dean hasn’t thrown anything at Cas, but Cas is smart enough to learn from the mistakes of those around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On Dean’s suggestion, Cas sits in the day room and watches television for a few minutes. He’s not comfortable with it, but he’ll live this one time probably. And Cas just wants Dean to be alright. So, he watches tv. It’s to his detriment, however, because the other patients have elected for reruns of The Big Bang Theory, which he can’t stand. It plays into autism stereotypes and as an autistic person Cas doesn’t appreciate that in the slightest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas can only take forty five minutes or so of this, and elects to return to his room because he’s sure it’s been long enough by now. When Cas comes in, Dean is sitting upright on the edge of his bed, and he looks… wrong. He’s not sitting still, but not in a sense of fidgeting so much as off-balance. And he’s very pale.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean, are you sick?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah… kinda…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean’s eyes don’t quite focus on Cas. He almost falls off the bed but Cas runs up and grabs him, holds him there for a second or two before getting him on his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should go see a nurse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cas…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ShitI’mgonna-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Dean throws up all over him before promptly collapsing. Cas forces himself to ignore the disgusting stickiness of his pajamas and drops to his knees to feel Dean trembling horribly, skin clammy and not the correct temperature. But Dean is also not breathing very well. And so Cas panics and runs out into the hall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“HELP!” he screams, using his entire lung capacity. “HELP!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Four people come running into his room. Their hands are all over his friend and they’re talking, too many words, he can’t process or separate what they say to each other. Dean doesn’t seem to be completely conscious anymore, and in less than five minutes is being taken out of the room and subsequently off the unit entirely on a gurney. And Cas can only stand and watch this all happen, grimy pajama shirt still plastered to his chest. It’s cooling, and it’s slimy, and Cas notices that he’s shaking terribly at the same moment that he realizes his eyes are blurring.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A nurse comes into the room less than a second before the first sob tears its way free of his throat. Cas has only limited control of his emotions even on good days, so there’s no stopping this. He’s helpless to do anything to improve the situation. The nurse helps him change into clean pajamas and then he’s given his ativan with another carton of orange juice. It takes him twenty minutes to stop crying.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Trigger warnings:</p><p>1. John Winchester.<br/>2. Cas witnesses Dean having a medical emergency.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Aaaaannnnnnddddd we're up to sixty subscribers! ^_^</p><p>For those who may be sitting there thinking "why is he making such a big deal about that?" to yourselves, if you have an AO3 account you can subscribe to a fic and then every time a new chapter drops you get a nice little email telling you about it. This, for some people, can help reduce anxiety because that way you can be sure you're not accidentally missing anything. For me, as the writer, it makes me really happy to see all those subscribers because it feels a little bit like I have a tv show that X number of people are tuning in to watch every week. It gives me warm fuzzies and makes me feel appreciated &lt;3</p><p>Trigger warnings in endnotes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The morning of the seventy second day, Cas is barely able to swallow enough to drink a carton of orange juice… there’s no possible way he can consume breakfast. He goes back to his room after and lies down in Dean’s bed, curling in on himself with his eyes closed. There’s no way to know if Dean is alright, because the nurses won’t tell him. So Cas stays in bed, under blankets that smell like Dean. He dozes at points, not quite a full sleep, and doesn’t leave for group or for lunch. Salvation eventually comes, however, in the form of Sam Winchester arriving during visiting hours. And for this, Cas gets out of bed.</p><p>“Hello, Sam.”</p><p>They sit.</p><p>“How are you feeling?”</p><p>“Concerned.” Cas frowns. “No, that’s not right. Anxious. Worried. I think those are much closer to how I feel.”</p><p>“Dean’s still alive, he’ll be back on this unit in a couple days or so.”</p><p>“What happened to him?”</p><p>Sam sighs quietly and watches his own hands where they’re folded on the table. “He’s been palming his meds instead of actually taking them. So twelve doses of sertraline and twelve doses of prazosin all at once made his blood pressure tank, he’s in intensive care right now.”</p><p>“But he’ll live?”</p><p>“Yeah, he will. Cas, um, did something happen yesterday?”</p><p>“To Dean?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>Cas thinks briefly. “He already seemed sad, but that’s not unusual for him to begin with. However… shortly before he… there was a phone call from your father that severely upset him. He asked me to give him space. When I came back into the room, he was ill.”</p><p>Sam nods. “Yeah, a call from dad would definitely do it.” He takes a breath. “Cas - are you gonna be okay? I know you were in the room when it happened.”</p><p>“I want Dean to get better.”</p><p>“I know, but are <em> you </em> going to be okay?”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Cas admits. “I want to see Dean again. He makes me feel safe. He’s a good friend.”</p><p>A slow nod. “Yeah, I’ve heard that about him.”</p><p>“Will he still be my roommate? Not all the beds here are full anymore and the nurses often call him snuggling me ‘inappropriate,’” Cas confesses.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Sam shrugs. “I have no control over that.” He unfolds his hands and sits back somewhat in the chair. “Alright, we do actually have to talk business a little bit. Things are looking okay right now for your case, it basically hinges on me being able to prove that Raphael having agency over you is making you suffer.”</p><p>“Which it is.”</p><p>“Yes. So, the biggest issue is the red tape, but I’m taking care of that and you don’t need to worry about it. It’s evident that Raphael’s interference with your life is detrimental to you and causes you distress. I don’t want to be overconfident about anything, but ultimately it shouldn’t be very hard for me to get him away from you.”</p><p>“I see.” Cas knows this topic is important, but his mind disobeys and he needs further reassurance. “Are you sure Dean will be alright?”</p><p>“Yeah, once he wakes up I’ll tell him you said hi.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Trigger warnings:</p><p>1. Depictions of separation anxiety.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Seventy one subscriptions and we've reached a point where I get over two hundred hits per chapter update! You guys are amazing and I love you &lt;3</p><p>Trigger warnings in endnotes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Day seventy five.</p><p>“I need more ativan,” Cas demands at the counter of the nurses’ station.</p><p>“Have you tried your breathing exercises?”</p><p>“Please,” he begs, because he can’t do anything else.</p><p>Words are fleeing from his brain and in approximately thirty seconds he will lose the ability to speak beyond nodding or shaking his head. There have even been incidents in the past where he’s been unable to do that much. This is his third panic attack today; today has, in fact, been very bad for him.</p><p>Cas is overcome by the sensation of the air crushing his body and he flees back to his room just as his arms start to tingle and cramp. His fingers curl without his permission and the walls move. There are demons hiding in the shadows, they’re waiting to jump out at him, why can’t he see them when he knows they’re there? And all the lights are too bright even though he knows they’re the only thing protecting him from the shadow-demons. Cas sits in the corner with his forehead on his knees and his wrists behind his neck. He can’t breathe.</p><p>A nurse. There’s a nurse in his presence. He’s speaking to Cas but Cas can’t separate his words, understand him. He’s a voice approximately three feet away, that’s all. It’s not soothing or helpful, it’s scenery, part of the backdrop provided for this particular episode of being helplessly overwhelmed.</p><p>He can’t breathe correctly and despite being seated begins to feel dizzy. Cas’ entire body is subject to tremors and he has no sensation in his hands. He needs to lie down - it’s his only coherent thought. But it takes awhile for him to be able to force himself to uncurl long enough to scramble into a bed. Not his bed, but Dean’s, always Dean’s bed. He hasn’t been in his own bed in days.</p><p>Cas covers himself completely in the thin hospital blankets and burrows his head between the mattress and the pillow because it still smells like Dean a little bit under there. He wishes for Dean because Dean would lie on his back to press him and then he’d feel better eventually.</p><p>Other people come into the room at various times. Nurses, probably. Cas ignores all of them. They can’t help him and they refuse to give him more ativan even though he needs it. He’s trapped in fear and there’s no way out. All he can do is wait for it to release him on its own.</p><p>And eventually it does start to ebb away. Cas sinks himself deeper into the bedding like it’s a protective cocoon. He’d still rather have Dean. He needs a hug. Bundled in warmth and exhausted now, Cas falls asleep through no fault of his own and naps until a nurse comes to wake him up - he returns to full consciousness with fingers poking him repeatedly in the shoulder. Cas groans and stretches his back before shifting the pillow away from his head.</p><p>And it’s not a nurse.</p><p>It’s Dean.</p><p>Cas throws himself out of bed and into the arms of his friend, who takes a second before hugging back. Cas is aware that he’s “clinging,” which is something that’s generally socially unacceptable, but he’s still drained despite his nap and so doesn’t care. He hangs on with his arms as tightly as he can and buries his face in Dean’s shoulder, soaking in the warmth and becoming mildly alarmed by the lack of mass to his friend. Dean is still losing weight.</p><p>“Don’t ever do that again, Dean,” Cas begs. “You scared me.”</p><p>“Cas…”</p><p>“Quiet,” he snaps, squeezing harder with his arms. “Agree with me that what you did was detrimental and unnecessary.”</p><p>“Yeah, I guess.”</p><p>“<em>Dean.</em>”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Say it.”</p><p>“Okay, uh, detrimental and-and unnecessary.”</p><p>“Now promise me you won’t do it again.”</p><p>“I can’t promise you that,” Dean whispers. “You don’t know how this feels.”</p><p>“While that’s true, I do know how <em> I </em> feel, and how I felt when you made that attempt on your own life. And I’m not the best with empathy but I believe I can safely speculate that Sam and whoever else cares would feel exactly how I did when you forced me to witness the consequences of you critically poisoning yourself. There are no words available to express the amount of fear or anguish that you put me through. Dean-” Cas chokes briefly but finds his voice again. “Dean. Don’t do that again.”</p><p>He trembles and his eyes sting, so he closes them and turns his head so that he’s facing into Dean’s neck instead. Dean strokes a palm down his back a few times, like with a cat. And Cas never wants to let go of him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Trigger warnings:</p><p>1. Depictions of separation anxiety.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Seventy six subscriptions now! I know eventually the number will probably plateau but for now I'm going to keep enjoying seeing it go up :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On the seventy sixth morning, Cas wakes up in Dean’s bed like he has for the past several days. The difference being that this time Dean is also present, spooned from behind and holding him. This immediately gives Cas a dopamine boost when he opens his eyes because it reminds him that Dean is alive and, physically speaking, approaching wellness again.</p><p>And this progress must be facilitated by consuming nutrients.</p><p>“You’re getting twitchy, you awake?” Dean rumbles into the back of his neck.</p><p>“Hello, Dean.”</p><p>“Mornin’.”</p><p>“I will now get up and change my clothes. You will also change your clothes. And then I’ll force-feed you your breakfast.”</p><p>Dean, somehow, snickers at him. “Sure you will, matchstick.”</p><p>“You have two options,” Cas insists. “You can take care of yourself on your own or I’ll be impossible and annoying until you do.”</p><p>“Cas-”</p><p>“Dean, I’m not kidding.”</p><p>“Never said you were.”</p><p>“Put on clean pajamas and then we can continue this argument.”</p><p>Despite further griping on Dean’s part, they do both get out of bed in a reasonable amount of time and Cas even manages to get him to change his clothes. Sitting with their trays in the day room, at a table in the corner beside the patient fridge, Cas realizes that he also hasn’t been eating very well while Dean was in intensive care. He concludes that first of all, he’s a hypocrite, and second of all they’re both equally terrible at self-preservation.</p><p>Morning group today implements one of Cas’ favorite things - art therapy.</p><p>Until the therapist tells him the following: “Castiel, the last five times I was here, all you did was draw bees. Can you try something else this time?”</p><p>“But I enjoy bees.”</p><p>“I know you do.” Cas risks a glance even though he doesn’t usually look at the staff - the therapist, who he’s directly seeing directly for the first time since he came here, is not a demon. She smiles at Cas but it’s not the nice kind. This is the same smile his father wore when he was a kid, that this-is-the-last-time-I’ll-ask-nicely-before-I-punish-you smile. Cas’ whole back prickles with discomfort. “But it’s not very insightful, is it?”</p><p>Cas trembles. “I suppose it isn’t.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“Why can’t he draw what he wants?” Dean snorts.</p><p>“Because it defeats the purpose of the exercise. Are you new? I haven’t seen you before.”</p><p>“No, I just think this is bullshit and I’m here for moral support,” Dean announces, landing a hand on Cas’ shoulder.</p><p>“Okay, but if you’re going to be here you can’t be a distraction and you should try to participate.”</p><p>“Yeah, whatever…”</p><p>Handcuffed now by being unable to draw something he enjoys, Cas frowns at his blank piece of paper for almost ten minutes without putting down a single line. Looking from the corner of his eye, he tries to see what Dean is sketching and is surprised to find his friend taking the exercise very seriously. It looks like a thin rope, or perhaps a very thick string, that’s being brought out on the sheet of printer paper.</p><p>Cas returns his attention to his own empty page. If Dean can manage this activity, then so can he. He picks up his pencil and thinks of something he can draw besides bees… and inspiration strikes when a patient not part of this group passes by the open door of the room. He’ll draw what the demons look like. No colors this time, only pencil sketching with shadows. Demons are colored a little bit in real life but they’re mostly these ugly gray smoky things with horns and barbs and blackened eyes.</p><p>He just barely manages to finish his sketch before it’s time for them to all share their work with the therapist. There’s something of a vague human form stenciled out underneath the more detailed, scrubby lines of a nightmare incarnate. And in fact Cas feels a little bit proud of how it turned out, because it’s fairly close to how they really look and now maybe, with a means to show people, they’ll believe him finally.</p><p>“Who wants to share first?” the therapist asks.</p><p>Cas watches the others - one used to be a political cartoonist, and his drawing is very in keeping with that style; one did a watercolor painting of a bird leaving a cage in a manner that could suggest either flying or falling; one scribbled out the crude image of a grassy field catching fire.</p><p>And then it’s Dean’s turn.</p><p>“This is uh. A lace from a combat boot.” Dean fidgets with his pencil.</p><p>“Okay,” the therapist nods, smiling at him. “Why is it broken?”</p><p>“Because that’s what happened,” Dean mumbles. “The lace on my fucking boot snapped and I had to stop and fix it. So a buddy’a mine found an IED the hard way, when it should’a been me. The only thing we found was his helmet, the rest’a him was just… gone. There wasn’t even any guts.”</p><p>“I see.” She watches him for a few seconds, then moves on. “Cas?”</p><p>“This is what they look like,” Cas insists, holding up his paper. “Some of the patients and some of the doctors. I don’t understand why nobody else can see it but me.” He feels frustrated just by describing it. “Nobody believes me, but now I can show them and maybe someone else will notice what’s going on.”</p><p>Dean lightly plucks the sketch from his fingers and looks it over. “Creepy.”</p><p>“Give it back,” Cas demands, because that paper was drawn on by him and is therefore his property… and he absolutely can’t stand anyone touching his things. Thankfully, Dean relinquishes it without arguing.</p><p>The group is let out and Cas watches his friend throw away the drawing of the boot lace. He wonders if that’s what Dean writes about in the journal sometimes, broken laces and dead friends. But Cas knows better than to ask that question. So he just takes his own picture back to their room and then waits for lunch.</p><p>“You’re not half bad at drawing,” Dean comments randomly while they eat.</p><p>“Most people are better.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>Cas has no answer for that. “Why do you like my picture, Dean?”</p><p>“’Cause it’s good. Now lemme ask you something, Cas.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“You said nobody else can see them but you. So I’m guessing nobody else can draw them, either. How good are you at math?”</p><p>“Average, I think.”</p><p>“You know what statistics are?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Okay.” Dean sets down his sandwich, nodding. “So now follow me for a second, here. Nobody else sees what you see. Nobody else can draw what you see. How many people have you told about it by now, roughly?”</p><p>“I don’t know. Likely several dozen, including my family and everyone at the previous hospital where I was interred.”</p><p>“Right. So uh… do you really think it’s more likely that you’re seeing things nobody else sees because you’re just that special, or because it’s just your eyes and your brain playing tricks?”</p><p>“You sound like my psychiatrist.”</p><p>“Yeah, and he’s a dick. But Cas, he’s right about this one thing. And I kinda thought maybe it’d help to hear it from somebody else who you trust more than that guy,” Dean says in an oddly quiet voice.</p><p>Cas lowers his eyes to watch the table, taking a moment to find his voice again. “I don’t want to be sick, Dean.”</p><p>“Yeah, I know you don’t, buddy. I don’t think anybody does. But y’know, once Sammy gets your dick brother outta the picture, there ain’t nothing here that’s gonna hurt you, okay? So you don’t gotta go around looking scared all the time like you do. It’s just your brain playing a trick like I said.”</p><p>Dean slowly reaches across the table and puts his hand on Cas’ wrist as a means of grounding. And because it’s Dean, who he trusts, the idea that he might simply be crazy like everyone says hurts a little bit less than when it comes from anyone else. And Cas wonders, for once, if he should believe it… if anxiety-not-otherwise-specified-with-psychotic-features is in fact what’s happening to him.</p><p>Group therapy after lunch comes and goes like usual, and then there’s a surprise during visiting hours that Cas sees signing in at the nurses’ station: “I’m here to see Castiel.”</p><p>“Hello, Gabriel.”</p><p>“Cassie!” Gabriel hugs him. (Gabriel is the only one besides Dean who currently has hugging privileges.) “It took me until now to figure out which hospital Raph tossed you in after the last one.”</p><p>“Yes, I would’ve called but I can never remember your cell phone number,” Cas explains. They go to sit in the section of the day room which has the television. “And it stands to reason Raphael would refuse to tell you where I am.”</p><p>“Yeah, well, I <em> am </em> the third-biggest fuckup in the entire family,” Gabriel grins, lightly slapping his shoulder. “Here, I brought you some contraband.”</p><p>A Snickers bar is produced and Cas devours it on the spot. “Thank you for that.”</p><p>“So, how’s life?”</p><p>“Repetitive.”</p><p>“Just the way you like it.”</p><p>“Yes.” Cas remembers. “We’re in the process of transferring agency to Anna, and I won’t need to be moved again once that happens.”</p><p>“How’d you swing that?”</p><p>He spots Dean in the hallway pacing and points. “His brother is a lawyer.”</p><p>“Ooh, new boyfriend? He’s hot!”</p><p>“No, Gabriel. We’re friends.”</p><p>“Sure you are,” his brother snorts.</p><p>“Don’t draw attention to me, Cas,” Dean calls through the door.</p><p>“Dean, this is my brother.”</p><p>Dean makes a face and comes in to hover several feet away. “There’s more than one?”</p><p>“Yes, this is Gabriel. He’s the only one of my siblings who… actually likes me,” Cas admits.</p><p>“Then why aren’t you giving him agency?”</p><p>“Oh, I’m too much of a rambunctious goofball,” Gabriel grins. “You can’t turn over this kinda stuff to anyone who’s actually fun.”</p><p>“No, it’s because you’re a porn actor and a judge wouldn’t take you seriously,” Cas says bluntly.</p><p>Dean’s eyebrows rise comically high on his forehead and he’s silent for a moment. “Okay. Wow. Can’t say I was expecting that today.”</p><p>“And <em> that’s </em> your problem, bucko. Expect the unexpected and you’ll never be surprised.”</p><p>Dean shakes his head and leaves. Cas can’t blame him.</p><p>“I don’t think you made a particularly good impression on him.”</p><p>“I please to aim, Cassie.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Exactly.” Gabriel pulls a second candy bar out of his jacket and slips it into the shirt pocket of Cas’ pajamas. “Here, for later.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>“Sooooo, tell me about your boyfriend,” he teases.</p><p>“He’s not. There were no other empty beds and he was assigned to the same room as me.”</p><p>“Sounds like a nice romantic fanfiction.”</p><p>“Gabriel, please stop it,” Cas groans. “I made friends with him and we have a symbiotic relationship which helps us both cope with the issues that naturally arise from living on this unit.”</p><p>“I bet you already gave him hugging privileges, didn’tcha?”</p><p>“That’s not of import.”</p><p>“And <em> that’s </em> a gigantic ‘yes’ if I ever heard one.”</p><p>“Are you going to keep visiting me here?” he asks, trying desperately to change the subject.</p><p>“Do you really think I’d abandon you, Cassie?”</p><p>“Gabriel please stop calling me that.”</p><p>He watches his brother produce a third Snickers bar and begin eating it. Despite the annoyance factor, Cas is still glad Gabriel came to see him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Eighty three subscriptions now! :)</p><p>Trigger warnings in endnotes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Day seventy eight. Dean has been here for three weeks, which Cas knows is an unusually long stay for the average psychiatric patient. This is thanks to Sam bullying Dean’s insurance provider because Dean is clearly not well enough to be left unsupervised yet. Cas is glad that his friend has such a competent and caring brother. Dean deserves to get better.</p><p>Wanting Dean to get better is all the justification Cas needs for his actions this afternoon when the phone rings.</p><p>Cas happens to be nearby, so he answers it, because that’s what the rule is for this situation. “Hello.”</p><p>“I need to speak to Dean Winchester,” comes a deep, stern voice.</p><p>“Who is this?”</p><p>“John, I’m his father.”</p><p>Cas’ entire body stiffens. “No. You may not speak with him.” And he hangs up.</p><p>Dean is taking a nap in their room and Cas refuses to disturb him for something that will only put him in distress. The phone rings again. Cas picks it up.</p><p>“Hello.”</p><p>“I need to talk to my son.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>He hangs up a second time.</p><p>This happens eight times in succession until Dean’s father eventually stops calling. Cas wonders if he’s actually given up or if he’s only waiting several minutes in hopes that someone else will answer. So Cas sits by the phone and draws bees using a clipboard to hold the paper. He puts as many as will fit on the page and then starts over with a fresh sheet. And the phone rings again.</p><p>“Hello.”</p><p>“That you, Cas?”</p><p>“Sam?”</p><p>“Yeah, it’s me. Hey, can I talk to Dean?”</p><p>“He’s sleeping right now, is it important?”</p><p>“I just wanted to warn him that our dad’s on a tear and not to answer the phone.”</p><p>“Oh, don’t worry about that, I’ve been intercepting the calls for that purpose this afternoon,” Cas explains. “I’ve managed to stop John each time so far. Did you know he gets progressively angrier and more prone to using profanities each time you tell him no?”</p><p>“Uh. Yes, Cas, I do know that. You’re lucky he can’t reach through the phone and deck you or he would’ve after the second time.”</p><p>“Why is John so angry with Dean?”</p><p>“It’s a really long story that I don’t wanna get into right now, Cas, sorry. Thanks for not letting him talk to Dean, that’s a really big favor and I appreciate it.”</p><p>“You’re welcome. I’ve managed to get him to start eating regularly at meal times, I feel this could’ve set him back.”</p><p>“…thanks, Cas. Thanks for looking out for him like that.”</p><p>“Your brother is a very good friend to me, I do my best to give back as much as I can.”</p><p>“I know, and that makes me feel a lot better since I can’t be there all the time to help him out.”</p><p>“You don’t have to thank me, Sam. I’m happy to do it even if you weren’t in the process of forcibly extricating Raphael from my life. It baffles me that being the youngest of six children only two of my siblings are worth speaking to.”</p><p>“Damn, <em> six? </em> How’d your parents do it?”</p><p>“Largely by being absent.”</p><p>“So wait, two siblings? Who else besides Anna?”</p><p>“My brother Gabriel, I like him better but his profession is difficult to swallow for people in positions of power and I didn’t believe he would be a good choice for a candidate to take over my agency. Not to mention the fact that in a few years he’ll likely be too old to continue working in porn and will have to pick a new career for himself.”</p><p>“Um. Yeah.” Sam coughs on the other end of the line. “What do the others do for work?”</p><p>“Anna is a psychology professor and Raphael is a lawyer… which you’re already aware of, sorry,” Cas realizes. “Michael is in the air force, he’s a very decorated pilot, which is the extent of my knowledge about him as a person. And Lucifer is in prison for three different murders, each with life sentences and no chance of parole. Although… we’re fairly certain there were at least seven and they weren’t able to prove the other four.”</p><p>“Wow. That’s, uh. That’s a pretty mixed bag of personalities in there.”</p><p>“A severe understatement.”</p><p>“And you’re the youngest?”</p><p>“Yes. You wouldn’t believe the bullying. Anna left me alone most of the time and Gabriel tried to protect me when he could, but there was only so much he could do.”</p><p>“Y’know what, Dean put superglue in my toothpaste and ironed my dress shirts using beer. So - youngest sibling solidarity,” Sam laughs. “I feel your pain, man.”</p><p>“Raphael broke my nose twice and my arm once… all three were separate incidents. Lucifer kicked me in the head once and the concussion was so severe I was taken to the emergency room. Of course, Lucifer also stabbed Gabriel with a kitchen knife. Fortunately it only required stitches and a tetanus shot. I believe these warning signs should’ve warranted more attention than they got that he would become a serial killer. I haven’t seen him in years, but I remember him behaving like a spoiled child most of the time even though he should’ve outgrown that behavior a very long time ago.”</p><p>A light tap on his shoulder - he startles hard enough to knock his clipboard of bee drawings to the floor, but it’s only Dean.</p><p>“Who’re you talking to?” Dean whispers.</p><p>“It’s Sam, would you like to speak with him?”</p><p>“Sure, I guess.”</p><p>“Sam, Dean is awake, I’m putting him on,” Cas informs him.</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>Cas relinquishes the phone and retreats to the day room so he can sit at a table and continue to draw bees.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Trigger warnings:</p><p>1. John Winchester.<br/>2. Allusions to abusive and neglectful parenting.<br/>3. Discussion of child abuse at the hands of siblings.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This fic now has eighty five people subscribed to it! (I wonder if I can make it to one hundred? 👀)</p><p>Trigger warnings in endnotes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I’ve been here for eighty one days,” Cas comments from the desk where he’s coloring in another mandala.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Almost three months in this one place?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Total it’s been over half a year, now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas sips his current carton of orange juice. “Anna won’t send me anywhere else, though. And…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes a breath and forces himself to speak. Times like this make him not enjoy trying to talk. “Dean, if and when you’re discharged before I am, will you. Come visit me here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can try, but I wouldn’t be allowed to for the first two weeks after I go. After that I could come up and see you. Same goes for calling, but Sammy’s your lawyer and everything, so he’ll be allowed to call and maybe he’ll just forget not to turn the phone over if I happen to be in the room with him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas glances over his shoulder and Dean is grinning a little, which draws a smile from him in return. “I won’t tattle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Uh, listen, Cas. I’m kinda glad you brought this up, ’cause they’re sending me home in a couple days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas has the immediate sensation of a lead brick dropping through his stomach and into his lower intestines. He doesn’t breathe for several seconds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you gonna be okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” he admits in a much smaller voice than normal. “I won’t be safe anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C’mon, we talked about that. Just your brain playing tricks, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but Dean-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cas, you’re not gonna be here forever, okay? I’ll get Sammy to call for me so you’re not technically breaking any rules, and after a couple weeks I can come up and see you again. And once you get out I’ll be able to see you more often. You’re gonna be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He says it without meaning to: “I don’t have any other friends.” It feels like he still isn’t breathing and he begins to gasp quietly for air. “Dean…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean’s eyes widen and he jumps off the bed. “Hey, don’t do that buddy, you’re okay.” Cas is pulled out of the chair and into a tight hug. “You need your meds?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas clings to his friend and doesn’t answer, largely because he isn’t sure how to. He’s aware that Dean isn’t abandoning him on purpose. (That doesn’t stop it from hurting.) It also occurs to him that this is at least partially his doing, seeing how he’s been encouraging Dean to eat and do therapy groups. This is good. Dean is improving. (But Cas doesn’t want Dean to leave him.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean rubs his back and pats down his hair, and Cas tucks his face into Dean’s neck. He’s never had a friend like Dean, Dean is his safety, a strength and a comfort to wrap him up in the dark and help him fall asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cas… listen, you know by now you’re not really an angel, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m trying to accept that,” he manages to say in a mumbling voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right. That don’t mean you’re not good, though. I was really not okay when I got here, I mean you </span>
  <em>
    <span>saw</span>
  </em>
  <span> how I was. I’m not saying I’m okay now, but I’m less ‘not okay’ than I was, and you have a lot to do with that.” Dean strokes the back of his head some more. “So I’m gonna get outta here, but Sammy got me set up with a therapist’s office and all that shit and… can’t hurt, right? I got nothing better to waste my time on anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas nods. He tries to say something in reply but the words won’t find his brain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll come up and visit you once I’m allowed to, okay? You’re gonna be fine. And yeah, you’re not an angel like you thought, but you’re a lot closer to being one than most people I’ve met.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t cope,” Cas admits. These are the only three words that come to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean hugs him closer, which should be impossible. “Yeah, I know you can’t. It’s okay. This ain’t the end’a the world, man, I promise.” And then… then, Dean lets go of him, and gently tilts his head down enough to be able to briefly kiss his forehead. “C’mon, let’s get your ativan and some more juice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shocked, all Cas can do is comply.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Trigger warnings:</p><p>1. Depictions of separation anxiety.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ninety six subscriptions, as always you guys are the best ^_^</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Day ninety comes and finds Cas sitting in his room and sulking.</p><p>He’s been at this hospital for three months, institutionalized for a total of six and a half. By now it nearly escapes his memory how to live in a small, ordinary apartment where Raphael would appear every four weeks to check on him. The fixing of his own meals (usually in a microwave), the washing of his own laundry (assuming he didn’t forget to buy detergent), watching the same two tv shows on Netflix over and over because they made him smile (and there were no other good programs to choose from because Netflix, objectively speaking, is awful).</p><p>A demon - no, <em> no, </em> remember what Dean said, it’s a trick, that demon is really a patient like he is - appears briefly. “Cas, you got visitors.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>It’s only been one week, which means that of the two visitors who are allowed to see a patient at a time, neither will be Dean. In another seven days, Dean will be allowed to call and visit. Until then, Cas doesn’t get to see him. But, approaching the nurses’ station where people check in if they’re not patients or staff, he is relieved to find that it’s the two people besides Dean who he most wants to see… which is odd, considering they don’t know each other.</p><p>“Castiel!” Gabriel waves at him in a deliberately goofy manner. “You won’t <em> believe </em> the coincidence, both of us came to see you today and we have presents!”</p><p>“Hello, Gabriel.” Cas receives a one-armed hug from his older brother. “Sam.”</p><p>“Hey, Cas.”</p><p>“Was this… on purpose?”</p><p>“Uh, no. We ran into each other on the way in. Here, let’s go sit.”</p><p>They don’t go into the day room because there are several other patients with visitors there, and instead retreat to Cas’ room. Sam takes the desk chair while Gabriel sits opposite Cas on what was formerly Dean’s bed.</p><p>“So, let’s get you all loaded up with cavities,” Gabriel jokes, reaching into a cargo pocket on his pants and producing lemon pudding cups, Snickers bars, and three individually wrapped cookies - white chocolate chips and macadamia nuts. “I checked first, you can just keep this stuff here and it’s totally fine.”</p><p>Despite his lingering gloominess, Cas can’t help a tiny smile that bubbles up. “Thank you.” These are all his favorites; trust his brother to come through on the little things.</p><p>“Samsquatch brought you some stuff too.”</p><p>“I - is it so much to ask that people just call me Sam?” he complains, rolling his eyes and pulling what Dean would usually call an <em> epic bitchface. </em> “He’s right, though. Um. Here.” Sam turns over a reusable shopping bag.</p><p>Cas reaches inside and pulls out a flannel overshirt. “But why?”</p><p>“It’s Dean’s, he told me to give it to you because the last time we bent the rules about the phone he said you sounded really sad.”</p><p>“Oh.” Cas isn’t sure what to make of this, but it fills him with the warm fuzzy feelings that he used to get from Dean’s hugs, which was probably intended. Looking in the bag again, he finds two more in different colors. “Thank you.”</p><p>“Aww, that’s <em> adorable,</em>” Gabriel teases.</p><p>“You have eighteen fillings,” Cas snipes.</p><p>“Yep! And I probably need another one actually.”</p><p>It’s impossible to make Gabriel angry. That doesn’t stop Cas from trying on occasion when his brother is being extra-irritating. Presumably this is a typical sibling dynamic, though, because he’s seen it in action between Dean and Sam as well.</p><p>“So shirts aside, I did actually come here on business,” Sam interrupts. “Now that Anna has agency, we’re gonna start looking at housing for you once you’re discharged.”</p><p>Gabriel, for once, gets serious. “Worst comes to worst, he can stay with me for a few weeks in the interim.”</p><p>“Great! That’s great, that buys us more time. Cas, I don’t think you’ll actually be here that much longer, maybe a couple more weeks… a month, tops. I was having a conversation about it with your psychiatrist over the phone yesterday and he said that you’ve improved a little bit about separating what’s delusion from what’s real, which is really good. So once you’ve got a handle on that, you can be discharged.”</p><p>“What happened to my truck?” Cas wonders. Somehow the question never occurred to him until now. “I have a truck.”</p><p>“It was reported abandoned, Anna’s working on getting it back for you. I don’t… know if you’re still allowed to drive, though, since you have psychotic episodes. But we can worry about that more down the road.”</p><p>“Does that busted-ass thing still run at all?” Gabriel asks, making a face.</p><p>“It did when I was sent here, I’m sure the battery has lost its charge by now. And the muffler is loose, but that’s not of import.”</p><p>“It is if you wanna pass inspection,” his brother snorts.</p><p>“Okay, let’s stay focused, guys. Gabriel, try not to distract him so much.”</p><p>“You’re no fun, Samsquatch.”</p><p>“I never said I was. Alright, so housing’s in progress, getting the truck back is in progress. The next thing we have to do is get your food benefits back again, since you were here it lapsed but that’s probably not a hard fix.”</p><p>“Yes, I see.” Cas opens one of his cookies and takes a small bite of it. “I would like to have a pet. Raphael always told me I would never be able to take care of it even if my apartment building allowed animals.”</p><p>“Okay, so we’ll keep an eye out for living arrangements that’ll let you do that.”</p><p>“What kind of pet?” Gabriel questions around a mouthful of Skittles that came from his jacket pocket.</p><p>“A cat. They’re low maintenance.”</p><p>“Cas if you get a cat Dean won’t be able to come visit you, he’s really allergic to them,” Sam warns.</p><p>“Oh. Well. I’ll come up with something else then.”</p><p>Sam’s phone rings, derailing the conversation. He snorts at the screen before answering. “Good timing, man. Here, lemme put you on speaker.”</p><p>“-ait, what? Sammy-!”</p><p>“Hello, Dean,” Cas practically yells at the phone despite it being less than five feet from him.</p><p>“Cas?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Oh, it’s your boyfriend!” Gabriel chortles.</p><p>“Fuck me,” Dean groans on the other end.</p><p>“Please ignore my brother, he has as much insight to offer to any conversation as a piece of scenery in the background of a tv set,” Cas growls, glaring pointedly at Gabriel as he says it. Then he can’t help smiling. “How are you, Dean?”</p><p>“Kinda tired. Sammy bring you my presents?”</p><p>“Yes, the shirts are a pleasant surprise and I definitely appreciate the gesture.”</p><p>“Good, I’m glad I could help.”</p><p>“Have you started working on your wedding vows yet, Cassie?”</p><p>“Gabriel, shut up!” Cas barks. To Sam and Sam’s phone: “Sorry.”</p><p>“Serves me right for being supportive of your beautiful blossoming relationship, huh?”</p><p>“Shut up!” all three of them shout at him.</p><p>“Cas, your brother sucks,” Dean complains.</p><p>“Actually, out of four older brothers, he’s the one who’s the nicest and most reasonable to me.”</p><p>“…wow. That bad, huh?”</p><p>“I’m sure this isn’t why you called, did you need to speak with Sam?”</p><p>“Well he uh. Dammit, take me off speaker!”</p><p>The phone is given to Cas. “Alright, only I can hear you.”</p><p>“He wanted me to call and check in once I got outta my therapy appointment.”</p><p>“How did it go?”</p><p>“Okay, I guess. He said it’d work better if I don’t jump right to the conclusion of ‘this guy is a quack’ so I’m tryna not do that.”</p><p>“This is a good thing, Dean. I’m proud of you, and I’m sure Sam is, too.”</p><p>“Yeah, I am,” Sam nods.</p><p>“He said he is.”</p><p>“Sure. Whatever. What kinda pizza you like, Cas?”</p><p>“Um… pepperoni and extra cheese. Why?”</p><p>“I’mma bring you some when I can come see you up there.”</p><p>Cas feels his eyebrows raise. “Okay. Thank you, that sounds nice.” He misses Dean. He misses Dean a lot.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Cas' truck is not one of the trucks he has in the show, it's actually my truck because I love my truck :D plus, Tacomas are unkillable. They're the best pickup trucks and everyone should have one.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I MADE IT TO ONE HUNDRED SUBSCRIBERS ON THIS FIC. That's amazing and I think I'm going to stop keeping track now, no exaggeration that's <em>twenty times</em> as many as I would average on a fic in most of my previous fandoms. You guys are the best and I love you all &lt;3</p><p>Trigger warnings in endnotes.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On the ninety third morning, Cas eats one of his lemon puddings while meeting with his psychiatrist because his breakfast wasn’t particularly satisfying and also he enjoys citrus in most forms. (Except grapefruit - too bitter and unpleasant.) It’s a type of stimming, technically, and the main reason he’s constantly drinking orange juice.</p><p>This meeting is slightly atypical. Despite his newly glum and lonely moods since Dean went home, he’s been making progress at last, which means they need to discuss next steps, possibly him being discharged in the near future. Cas is positive he’s not ready for that and makes sure he gets the message across on no uncertain terms. First of all, Sam hasn’t gotten his truck back yet, secondly he has no place to live and needs to at least give Gabriel some warning before crashing there, and third he isn’t mentally prepared to leave the hospital. It’ll be such a large adjustment, like a convict being released from prison.</p><p>He won’t be going right away, thankfully. The staff will help him make plans for himself, about adjusting once he’s back home and how to avert potential crises in the future and coping with his anxiety and delusions. They won’t jump into any of this right away, and he’s allowed to leave the office and head back to his room. Group will be wrapping up in twelve minutes so there’s no point in going there; Cas returns to his room instead and draws another page full of bees.</p><p>Dean commented on his doodles once: <em> you should illustrate kids’ books, Cas, you’re pretty good. </em></p><p>Cas shoves the paper away from himself so that it won’t get ruined as he promptly bursts into tears. Dean’s not allowed to visit him yet, not for another four days, and technically shouldn’t call him on the phone either. But Cas misses him so much, his warm hugs and the way he smells and his general goodness despite the perpetual bad moods he seems to have.</p><p>He makes a grab for one of his friend’s flannels and wraps himself in it, then climbs under the desk and curls inwards. The fabric is worn and soft, speaking to years and years of ownership marked with countless laundry cycles. It still smells a little bit like Dean. Cas tries to bury himself in this overshirt like it will save him, even though he has no idea what, exactly, he needs to be saved from this time.</p><p>And it just… <em> hurts. </em> Maybe because he has no other friends besides Dean. Sam doesn’t really count, he’s Cas’ lawyer, are they even allowed to be friends? And Dean’s just-just <em> out there, </em> he could get hit by a car or something and then Cas will never see him again and there won’t be any more phone calls that break the rules-</p><p>“Cas?” Oh. A nurse is here. “Are you okay?”</p><p>“Don’t ask stupid questions!” he snaps, raising his head just enough to properly shout at her before dropping his face back onto his knees.</p><p>“Do you want to tell me why you’re upset?”</p><p>She tries to pat his arm but he flinches back. He won’t tolerate being touched at this time.</p><p>“I miss Dean…”</p><p>This gets the nurse to tell him about being too dependent on his friends - as if he has any other friends at all to be dependent on. Her “soothing” tone grates on him and just makes him angrier. He refuses to respond further because this entire interaction is exhausting. All he wants is to see Dean but that’s not allowed, not for another four days.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Trigger warnings:</p><p>1. Depictions of separation anxiety.</p><p> </p><p>I debated long and hard whether to cut this chapter because on the surface it maybe seems pointless, but... this is just what autism is like. It's hard and it sucks and there's an absolute lack of control in these situations, when you very quickly get <em>very</em> emotionally attached to someone and then they're just <em>gone.</em> And you have no idea you made this attachment until it's way too late, and when they go you'd be less crippled if a bunch of your fingers got chopped off. It's not reserved for "romantic" attachments, either. It can be entirely platonic or familial, too, with the exact same impact. So I'm leaving it in, because I have these moments. And they never get any less hard or humiliating.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cas has spent all of day ninety six drawing page after page of bees until there’s a stack of these papers on the desk in his room. He’s waiting - waiting for the phone to ring, for Sam to call with tragic news that something happened to Dean and Cas will never see or hear him again. It’s not a “real” panic attack, so the nurses won’t give him his ativan no matter how many times he asks, because benzodiazepines can be troublesome or something along those lines. They don’t want him to become addicted.</p><p>He fills another page, tapping the fingers of his left hand to beat the pattern of his anxiety into the surface of the desk. All that needs to happen is for him to not receive that phone call, and tomorrow Dean will be here.</p><p>Someone knocks on the door frame and derails his train of thought - a staff badge. Cas doesn’t make eye contact, but looks in the general direction of this disruption. “Yes?”</p><p>“Hey, you got a phone call.”</p><p>Fear bursts across every one of his nerve endings. “From who?”</p><p>“Your brother.”</p><p>Oh… thank god, thank god, Dean is fine. Cas breathes again and goes to the patient phone - he’ll speak to Gabriel and then have a nap.</p><p>“Gabriel?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“But… they said I have a call from my brother.”</p><p>“Castiel, it’s Michael.”</p><p>“Oh.” Cas has no idea what to say. He doesn’t know his oldest brother, Michael was already ten years old when Cas was born. “Um. Hello.”</p><p>“I was speaking to Anna yesterday, she says you’ve been sick for some time.”</p><p>“Yes, apparently I’m not an angel and there aren’t demons everywhere like I was led to believe by my own mind.”</p><p>A throat-clearing. “I see. Did you hear about Lucifer?”</p><p>“No, what about him?”</p><p>“He escaped from prison three days ago. Are you safe there?”</p><p>“I’m on a locked ward of an inpatient psychiatric facility. I doubt he’d be able to reach me here.”</p><p>“Alright.”</p><p>“Is that… all?”</p><p>“Castiel, I know we aren’t close.” Cas is autistic and even <em> he </em> can feel the awkwardness contained in that sentence. “But you are still my brother. I don’t really agree with what Raphael has to say about you. If you need help in the future, you can ask.”</p><p>“I see.” Cas had just finished third grade when Michael graduated high school and joined the air force. He has no idea what to say to this man; they share blood, but they’re strangers with nothing in common. An oldest son and a youngest son, born to uncaring parents and who have never had anything to do with each other until this moment. “Michael… you never stepped in when Lucifer and Raphael were beating me up as kids. Why do you care now?”</p><p>“I was busy protecting Anna from them, but I’m sure you don’t remember that.” The words seem stiff from the other end of the line. “It doesn’t mean I didn’t care.”</p><p>“She has agency over me now.”</p><p>“Good. Then Raphael can’t hurt you anymore.”</p><p>Cas nods, even knowing Michael won’t see it. “Call Gabriel. He’s very angry with you. If you want to have any kind of relationship to me, you can start by fixing the one you have with him. Because <em> he’s </em> the one who protected me. I don’t believe you couldn’t have stood in the way on behalf of Anna and me both, perhaps you assumed she’d be weaker because she’s a girl.”</p><p>“Maybe. You’re thirty four years old, does it even matter anymore?”</p><p>“Yes, it matters! There’s plenty of reasons to believe that their treatment of me is at least partially to blame for my current psychiatric problems!”</p><p>A brief silence. “I’m sorry, Castiel.”</p><p>“Yes, well, I think you should be,” he snaps. “Call Gabriel and apologize to him first, and then we’ll talk.” And he hangs up the phone.</p><p>Cas retreats from the encounter and drinks a carton of orange juice, then takes a can of ginger ale back to his room. He doesn’t like ginger ale but Dean drank it sometimes, so he’s going to have some now while he goes back to his endless drawings of bees.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So my thought process with the addition of Michael and him not being as much of a dick as Raphael was that in the show, out of all the archangels, he's the only one besides Gabriel who seems like he can actually be reasoned with to some degree. We see it a little bit in s5 when he possesses John and has a very calm and rational discussion with Dean, and then later in s15 when he allows himself to be convinced to help them get into Purgatory and especially by his essentially symbiotic relationship to Adam where he cohabitates rather than full-on possesses.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>An end-of-March snowstorm heralds the ninety seventh day. Cas paces restlessly in the hallway between his room and the nurses’ station once afternoon group has let out, there were no tragic phone messages from Sam and that means Dean is okay and will be coming to see him for the first time in two weeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re stressing me out!” another patient yells at him. “Stop walking so much!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look somewhere else,” Cas barks. He absolutely does not care if anyone finds him distressing today - he’s waiting for Dean. “I’m not responsible for your emotions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can periodically see an actual clock when he reaches the end of the hall where the nurses’ station is, and when visiting hours begin he stays there and stands by the giant whiteboard to wait for Dean. It reminds him of day fifty seven, when Dean first appeared, and he smiles nervously. This time, Dean will be in people clothes instead of pajamas. Cas can’t wait to see him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are two blocks of visiting hours, technically speaking - from 2:30 to 4:30, and then from 6:30 to 8:30, except on weekends when it’s 1:00 to 4:00 and then 6:30 to 8:30 instead. Cas is already thinking how he can talk Dean into coming back for the second block of visiting hours as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>2:35… well, Dean probably wouldn’t be here on the dot anyway, he’s very impatient and wouldn’t want to stand around waiting to be let in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>2:40… well, Dean probably hit some red lights, or maybe there were lots of tolls on the interstate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>2:50… well, Dean never </span>
  <em>
    <span>said</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’d be here for the first block of visiting hours, maybe he’ll be here later?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>3:05. Dean probably got into an accident.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas goes to the counter. “I need my ativan.” They give it to him. He takes it with orange juice and goes to sit in his room and be miserable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cas, you have a phone call.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolls over in bed and looks - patient, demon, </span>
  <em>
    <span>patient.</span>
  </em>
  <span> They’re not really demons, he needs to remember that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Cas says, even though it’s actually very far from okay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>the phone call.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It’s going to be Sam, a very sad Sam, explaining that Dean crashed on the interstate or something during the trip up to the hospital. Cas’ lungs refuse to operate at full capacity as he walks to the phone and by the time he reaches it he’s starting to get dizzy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Cas.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean!” he shouts. “You’re alive?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh. Yeah, Cas, I’m alive. Hey, listen, it’s still snowing real bad and a truck jackknifed on the interstate, so I got held up… I’m just getting moving again now and the reception was so bad I couldn’t call until like two minutes ago. I know visiting hours are pretty much up so I’mma hang out for a couple hours and then bring you some food. What do you usually get from McDonald’s?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Double quarter pounder with cheese and a tropical berry Sprite, no french fries.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Done. So just skip what they bring you for dinner and we’ll eat, okay? I didn’t mean to make you nervous, buddy, it was completely outta my hands.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s okay, Dean. I’m glad you’re not hurt. I can’t wait to see you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, me too. And I got some stuff for you besides food, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Dean. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They hang up and Cas is exhausted, so he decides on a nap - it’s an excellent way to pass time while waiting for his friend to arrive. It also helps him skip his meal so that he can be hungry for the greasy fast food that Dean will bring. Unfortunately his circadian rhythm isn’t quite on board with this plan, which means he wakes up with sixty five minutes left to go before the second block of visiting hours. Over the course of his life so far, Cas has really learned to utterly loathe and despise the act of waiting, mostly because it makes him anxious… or rather, more anxious than he already is. He fears Dean being unable to show up a second time for whatever reason, which means all the waiting will have been for nothing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas rubs the sleep from his eyes, then pulls on one of the flannels and resumes his pacing from earlier. His muscles are spasming from fear, the accidental betrayal that occurred during the afternoon. He wants to believe Dean will still appear today but he’s also trying desperately to brace himself in case it doesn’t happen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At 6:34, Dean appears through the windows of the doors, and the staff allow him through both sets - a visitor, now, instead of a patient.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas fidgets, forcing himself not to pounce as Dean signs in on the clipboard, but immediately once that small task is complete comes a very long, very tight hug. He can smell the food but despite his empty stomach he has zero interest in eating at the moment, all he wants is this embrace in the secure arms of his friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, c’mon, let’s go siddown,” Dean prods eventually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sit in the corner of the day room and receive more than one jealous look for the McDonald’s bag that gets set in the middle of the table. Cas is used to Dean being picky or downright disinterested in food, so it’s something of a shock to watch him wolf down two bacon double cheeseburgers and an entire large serving of fries without stopping. Maybe it’s because this is junk food.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your trip here was terrible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, a forty minute drive took two and a half fucking hours,” Dean grumbles. “And I wanna say it’s good to be back, but that’s a god damn lie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I understand. You’re only here for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn right,” Dean nods, which makes him smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Dean. Incidentally those two words are woefully inadequate to express how I feel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” he shrugs. “So uh, I brought you some stuff.” He loosely waves at two cloth grocery bags beside his foot on the floor. “I figured those shirts prob’ly smell like you now, so I brought replacements and you can switch ’em out. And I got you one’a them weight blankets, too, ’cause getting one from the nurses is a bitch sometimes. I called and checked first, they said it’s okay for you to have it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cas is speechless at the amount of thought and effort Dean has put into this gesture. Nobody does things like this for him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ever.</span>
  </em>
  <span> (Of course… nobody but Dean has ever stood up to Raphael either, at least not without being terrified about it. Gabriel did when they were kids, which usually led to him taking whatever was meant for Cas. But Dean had been fearless all those weeks ago, like the hero of a movie.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You blow a fuse in there, pal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing. So you think you’ll get out soon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s unlikely to happen for at least a couple more weeks, at this stage I wouldn’t be able to cope.” Cas shakes his head. “And Sam has almost gotten my truck back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually Sam </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> get your truck back, and thanks for mentioning that, he told me to tell you about it since I was gonna be here anyway. The battery was dead but I looked it over and it’s otherwise fine, I fixed the muffler and changed the oil for you just in case and I put air in the tires. Seems like you take care of it okay for the most part.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a mechanic?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kinda. I grew up doing that shit, I don’t have a certification or anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It seems like it would be an exceptionally useful set of skills.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s annoying, all your friends ask you to fix their damn cars for free,” Dean gripes, rolling his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You did mine without me even asking,” Cas says, mildly confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but… you’re different.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just are,” Dean shrugs. “Cas, uh - therapy is stupid, okay? I still stand by that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But the therapist I have right now ain’t as bad as the last one I was seeing,” Dean plows on, ignoring the attempted interruption. “And she said that there was this… this school of thought or whatever that it’s super important for the patient to find a reason in themselves why they wanna live and improve and all that shit, right? But for some people that just ain’t possible. So figuring out kinda some external thing to hold onto can work until you can do it for yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“…okay,” Cas nods, not sure where Dean’s going with this. “That… seems reasonable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, I’m one’a the real hopeless cases, and I don’t got any good reasons to live just for me. But. I uh.” Dean visibly swallows. “I got you for that instead, now. So yeah, I’m gonna fix your truck for you just because.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I’m not worth it, either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A small headshake. “You are to me,” Dean whispers.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cas reaches one hundred straight days in this particular hospital… he wonders if they’ll give him a cake for that, seeing how it’s an unusual achievement. He’s seen multiple dozens of patients come and go in his time here, as well as three staff members leaving and being replaced. There’s a particular quiet hum to inpatient psychiatry, a strange peacefulness, which he’s accustomed to. He’s not sure how he’ll compensate for that when he’s out again, alone for most of the day while Gabriel’s out working.</p><p>He’s disinterested in his lunch today. They’ve changed which therapy groups he goes to for the morning and afternoon, in order to teach him coping skills for when he’s discharged. He doesn’t like these groups as much, and he wonders if it works differently for him because he’s neurodivergent. Some therapy methods don’t work on autistic people. Maybe that’s the problem.</p><p>Fortunately, he gets to skip his afternoon group today.</p><p><em> Un</em>fortunately, he’s skipping it to have a meeting with his sister.</p><p>Cas isn’t having the best day today, so he brings paper and a pencil with him so that he can doodle bees the entire time as a method of self-soothing. He isn’t sure what this meeting is for exactly… Sam will be here, though, which helps ease his anxiety some because he trusts Sam. Granted, Sam and Anna are the only ones he’s expecting to be present, which makes it all the more shocking as he’s let into the meeting room and three extra faces are waiting for him at the table.</p><p>“Hello, Dean.”</p><p>“Hey, Cas.”</p><p>He’s pulled in for a hug and wonders if he should be embarrassed to be found by anyone else wearing one of Dean’s flannels, but ultimately decides he doesn’t care. He sits between his friend and Gabriel, who hands him a pudding cup and a plastic spoon from thin air. Michael watches silently from across the table, sitting perfectly straight like there’s an entire oak tree shoved up his ass. Sam and Anna have stacks of what’s likely legal paperwork in front of them.</p><p>“Okay, uh, so Cas you’ll be getting discharged sometime in the next couple of weeks, so we’re gonna talk about community resources and your support system so that you know what to expect.”</p><p>“But why is Michael here?” Cas asks, genuinely confused.</p><p>“Good question,” Gabriel snarks around a Tootsie Pop.</p><p>“Because I’m trying to help, there are programs available for family members of military personnel and we’re looking into whether any of them will benefit you.”</p><p>“Boy, you just got everybody in your corner, huh?” Dean mutters to him.</p><p>“Before you get that look, Cas, he’s also a lot closer to where you’re going to live than I am,” Anna puts in. “So if something happens-”</p><p>“But Gabriel will be nearby,” he argues.</p><p>“Lucifer still hasn’t been put back in prison,” Michael points out.</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“And he might try to hurt you, we’re not sure what he’s up to right now.”</p><p>“But I have Dean.”</p><p>“Okay, what am I getting signed up for?” Dean groans.</p><p>“Our brother is a convicted serial killer who recently escaped from prison,” Gabriel explains.</p><p>“Awesome.” Dean rolls his eyes. “Cas, uh, part of the whole ‘therapy’ shtick is me tryna avoid violent… anything, so I don’t know if I’m really the best guy to be playing bodyguard for you. I’m not saying I won’t still do it, but y’know.”</p><p>“Yeah, actually, that’s not why Dean’s here, Cas,” Sam says. “And Dean, you <em> won’t </em> be doing that. Let’s see if we can get back on track, guys.”</p><p>“Wasn’t there something about a waiting list?” Gabriel pipes up.</p><p>“Yes, thanks for reminding me. There’s a waiting list as far as the housing issue goes, so you’ll probably have to stay with Gabe for between six and twelve months.”</p><p>The meeting proceeds like this for a few minutes, discussing the logistics of how Cas’ living situation will work out until they can find him his own place and Gabriel reminding him about the parking ban still being in effect until April (which means no parking his truck on the front lawn, because tickets). The good news is Dean lives about sixteen minutes away so they’ll be able to “hang out” whenever one of them isn’t in therapy and they’ll both be less lonely, at least until Dean has a job again. When this is pointed out Gabriel makes a joke about Cas needing to stock up on condoms which has every other inhabitant of the room groaning and/or rolling their eyes, except for Sam, who may be trying not to laugh if Cas is reading his expression correctly.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On the one hundred and tenth day, Cas is finally due to return home.</p><p>He wakes up and has breakfast like always, but after that the routine is abandoned. He gets dressed in his own clothes instead of pajamas - jeans, t-shirt, sweatshirt, shoes but no socks because socks are his nemesis. He doesn’t put on the light autumn jacket that he was admitted to the first hospital with, instead electing to tug one of Dean’s flannels over top of his sweatshirt. He has discharge paperwork and stacks upon stacks of bee doodles, plus the rest of the flannels and his weight blanket. All of these are piled into a reusable grocery bag. His cell phone and wallet and keys are all returned to him.</p><p>It was fall when he tried to fly off an overpass, the interstate rushing along below him. Now, he looks through the window at the end of the hall for the last time, and it’s spring outside. He’s been away from the world for almost seven months and he fears what awaits him when he reenters the land of the living.</p><p>Cas sets down his bag of stuff on the floor beside the nurses station and paces anxiously by the whiteboard, where his name hasn’t been erased yet. He reminds himself that demons aren’t real, that he’s a human being. (And Dean’s reason to keep clinging on - most people, Cas thinks, would find that troublesome or a burden. He considers it a privilege because he knows what a good man Dean really is when everything’s boiled down.)</p><p>Gabriel’s doing a shoot today. Michael lives an hour from Gabriel’s house and so almost two hours from the hospital, and Anna’s even further - and they’re both working, of course. Sam, needless to say, is at his law office as well. This leaves one person and one person only available to drive Cas home, but he isn’t about to complain. He thinks it would be impossible for him not to appreciate their time together.</p><p>Dean grins and hugs him on arrival before signing for him. “Alright, ready to get the hell outta here finally?”</p><p>“Yes,” Cas lies.</p><p>Dean grabs his bag of possessions for him and they walk out the doors together.</p><p>“So your brother threw me some cash, we’re gonna hit up a grocery store on the way so you can get some food for yourself,” Dean informs him as they wander through the hallway in search of the elevators.</p><p>“Do you know what they did with my truck?”</p><p>“Yeah, it’s waiting for you at Gabe’s house, I was even nice and gassed it up for you.”</p><p>Cas can’t help a smile. “Thank you, Dean.”</p><p>“How’d your afford a Tacoma if you’re on disability?”</p><p>“I didn’t, I inherited it,” he admits. “It hit a hundred and twenty thousand miles and Gabriel essentially decided he wanted a new truck, so he gave me the Tacoma and bought himself a used but newer truck with considerable help from his tax return that year. I pay insurance every six months… which I suppose has lapsed by now. <em> And </em> I missed the inspection. Other than that, I renew the registration each year and of course fill it with gas. But I didn’t pay anything initially to own it. Gabriel is hyper and absurd, but he’s been very kind to me and I’m closer to him than anyone else.”</p><p>“He did you a favor with his choice of truck too,” Dean comments. “Tacomas are a two hundred and fifty thousand mile engine inside a hundred thousand mile body, so just keep up with repairs and get your oil changed on time, that thing’ll last you awhile.”</p><p>“The gas mileage hurts.”</p><p>“Yeah,” his friend chuckles. “That can’t really be helped.”</p><p>And Dean yammers on for some time about car-related things, fuel injector cleaner and different types of windshield washer fluid, all these extras Cas never would’ve thought of but help smooth the operation of a vehicle or make the driving experience more user-friendly. As they’re finally leaving the building and stepping out into the damp parking lot Dean has gone off on a tangent about something to do with engine repairs… Cas has completely lost track of the conversation, but he listens anyway, absorbing the information if not necessarily understanding it. He’s perfectly happy to let Dean talk endlessly.</p><p>They get in Dean’s car, which has no seatbelts - logically Cas is aware that this isn’t technically a good thing, but it’s one less sensory issue he’ll have to put up with and that makes him happy. He settles comfortably against the seat and prepares to watch Dean drive for forty minutes.</p><p>“Do you want me to wash your shirts before I return them?” he asks.</p><p>“You can uh. You can just hang onto them, actually. If you want.”</p><p>Cas feels warm all over. “Really?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>After doing discharge paperwork all morning and then waiting, wasting time, it’s almost noon as they’re getting close to town and so Dean goes through the drive-thru to obtain lunch. Cas expects Dean to ask what he wants to order - everyone always does, as if he ever orders anything different, which is really annoying for him - but it doesn’t happen. After bringing Cas McDonald’s once Dean simply remembers his chosen items on the menu and orders them on his behalf without checking first.</p><p>He wonders what he did to deserve the attention and friendship of this man… whatever it was, he’s glad he did it.</p><p>“Okay, your murderous big brother is apparently still on the loose somewhere out there, so if you gotta go anywhere just be careful, right?” Dean comments when they’ve finished bringing his possessions and groceries into Gabriel’s kitchen.</p><p>“I will,” Cas promises, nodding.</p><p>Dean’s palm settles on the spot where his shoulder meets his neck; his friend’s thumb rests on his collarbone. He could grab Cas like this, move him around with probably not that much effort…</p><p><em> Pull me in right now and kiss me, </em> Cas thinks, very abruptly.</p><p>Dean doesn’t, and thankfully doesn’t seem to have heard him thinking that. “I’mma go home now so you can get settled in and shit, but if you need something you can call. I’ll come running.”</p><p>“Dean… thank you. For everything. You’ve done so much for me.”</p><p>“Don’t mention it.”</p><p>They separate and Cas tries to focus on arranging his groceries in the refrigerator, but his mind is spinning. Apparently he has “a thing” for Dean, and didn’t notice until now. But he doesn’t particularly mind, and he can keep it to himself. That’s the rule for this situation, which he’s found out the hard way - say nothing. If the other person reciprocates, Cas should wait to be approached first. If Dean feels the same way it’s reasonable to assume Dean will come to him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Updates are on Tuesdays (<em>insert Mystery Spot joke here</em>).</p><p>Seriously, guys, check the tags and the trigger warnings. There are at least a couple of really rough spots in this fic.</p><p>My other SPN fics can be found <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&amp;commit=Sort+and+Filter&amp;work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=revised_at&amp;include_work_search%5Bfandom_ids%5D%5B%5D=27&amp;work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&amp;work_search%5Bexcluded_tag_names%5D=&amp;work_search%5Bcrossover%5D=&amp;work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=&amp;work_search%5Bwords_from%5D=&amp;work_search%5Bwords_to%5D=&amp;work_search%5Bdate_from%5D=&amp;work_search%5Bdate_to%5D=&amp;work_search%5Bquery%5D=&amp;work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&amp;user_id=Aaron_The_8th_Demon">here</a>.</p><p>Comments welcome and appreciated.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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